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ii 


The   Poems 


of 


SCHILLER 


Translated  into  English  by 

E.  P.  Arnold-Forster 


New  York 

Henry    Holt   and    Company 

1902 


Published  April,  ig  02^ 


NASA) 


TRANSLATOR'S  PREFACE. 

I  CLAIM  no  more  for  the  following  translations  than 
that  they  are  a  tolerably  faithful  rendering  of  the 
original  poems  of  Schiller.  I  have  made  no  attempt 
to  seize  upon  Schiller's  supposed  meaning  and  clothe 
it  in  language  of  my  own. 

My  object  has  been  to  reproduce  not  only  Schiller's 
thoughts,  but  Schiller's  method  of  describing  those 
thoughts,  as  accurately  as  was  consistent  w^ith  a  change 
of  language  and  the  exigencies  of  verse.  Where 
Schiller  used  the  Elegiac  metre,  that  metre  has  been 
adhered  to  in  the  translation. 

It  is  true,    indeed,   that  the  technical  accuracy  and 

niceties   of   the   Classic  verse   can    never   be    attained 

in  a  modern  tongue,  but  the  English  language  adapts 

itself  at   least  as  well  to   the  Elegiac  metre   as   does 

the   German. 

E.   P.   ARNOLD-FORSTER. 

Cathedine, 
Burley-in-Wharfedale, 
Juiy,   1 901. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

Hector's  Farewell i 

Amalia 3 

A  Grave-ground  Phantasy 4 

Phantasy  to  Laura 7 

Laura  at  the  Spinet 10 

To  Laura.     Rapture 12 

The  Mystery  of  Reminlscence       13 

To  Laura.     Melancholy 16 

The  Infanticide 20 

The  Greatness  of  the  World 24 

Elegy  on  the  Death  of  a  Youth 26 

The  Battle 30 

Rousseau 33 

Friendship 34 

A  Group  from  Tartarus 37 

Elysium 38 

The  Fugitive 40 

The  Flowers 42 

To  Spring 43 

To  Minna 44 

The  Triumph  of  Love 46 

Fortune  and  Wisdom 52 

The  Dignity  of  Manhood 53, 

To  A  Moralist 57 

The  Grim  Count  Eberhard  of  Württemberg    ....  58. 

To  Joy 61 

The  Invincible  Armada 65. 

The  Conflict 67 

Resignation 68; 

vii 


a — 


CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

The  Gods  of  Greece 72  - 

A  Celebrated  Woman 77 

Lines  Written  in  a  Young  Lady's  Album 82 

The  Artists I3 

The  Meeting 98 

To  Emma ,  100 

The  Secret loi 

Suspense 103 

Evening 106 

-Desire 107 

The  Pilgrim ;     .     .     .  109 

The  Ideals 11 1 

The  Maiden's  Lament 114 

The  Youth  at  the  Brook 115 

The  Favour  of  the  Moment 117 

A  Mountain  Song 119 

The  Alpine  Hunter 121 

Dithyramb 123 

The  Four  Ages  of  the  World .     .     .  124 

Punch  Song        • 127 

To  My  Friends 128 

Punch  Song.    To  be  Sung  in  the  North 130 

-A  Trooper's  Song 132 

A  Nadowessian  Dirge        134 

The  Feast  of  Victory 136 

The  Lament  of  Ceres 141 

The  Eleusinian  Festival       146 

The  Ring  of  Polycrates 154 

-^'he  Cranes  of  Ibycus 158 

Hero  and  Leander 164 

Cassandra 173 

"^pHE  Hostage 178 

-The  Diver 184 

The  Knight  of  Toggenburg 190 

The  Fight  with  the  Dragon 193 

The  Walk  to  the  Foundry *. 203 

The  Count  of  Hapsburg 211 

The  Glove 215 

The  Veiled  Image  at  Sais 218 

The  Partition  of  the  World 221 

viii 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 


[>-— —The  Ideal  and  Life 

Parables  and  Riddles ^2g 


The  Strange  Maiden 223 

224 

The  Walk 236 

■The  Song  of  the  Bell 246^ 

The  Power  of  Song 260 

Woman's  Worth 262 

Hope 265 

The  German  Muse 266 

The  Sower 267 

The  Merchant 267 

Ulysses 267 

Carthage 268 

The  Knights  of  St.  John 268 

German  Honour 269 

Columbus 270 

Pompeii  and  Herculaneum 271 

The  Iliad 274 

Zeus  to  Heracles 274 

The  Antique  to  the  Northern  Wanderer 274 

The  Minstrels  of  Old  Time 275 

The  Antique  at  Paris 276 

Thekla 277 

The  Maid  of  Orleans 278 

0-— Nenia 279 

The  Child  at  Play 280 

The  Sexes 281 

The  Influence  of  Woman 283 

The  Dance 284 

>---^  Fortune 286  ^Z 

Genius 290 

The  Philosophical  Egotist 293 

>— The  Words  of  Faith 294 

>--       The  Words  of  Error 296 

Proverbs  of  Confucius 298 

Light  and  Warmth 300 

Breadth  and  Depth 301 

The  Guides  of  Life •     •  302 

Archimedes  and  the  Scholar 303 

Human  Knowledge •     •  3^3 

ix 


CONTENTS, 

PAGE 

The  two  Paths  of  Virtue 304 

Honours 304 

Zenith  and  Nadir 304 

Ideal  Freedom 305 

The  Child  in  the  Cradle 305 

The  Unchangeable 305 

Theophania 306 

The  Highest 306 

Immortality 306 

Votive  Tablets 307 

The  Best  Form  of  Government 319 

To  Legislators 319 

The  Worthy 319 

A  False  Impulse  to  Study 319 

Rejuvenescence 319 

The  Circle  of  Nature 319 

The  Genius  v^^ith  the  Inverted  Torch 320 

The  Virtue  of  Woman 320 

Beauty  at  its  best 320 

The  Forum  of  Woman 320 

Feminine  Judgment 320 

The  Feminine  Ideal 321 

Hope  and  Fulfilment 321 

The  Common  Lot 321 

Human  Performance 322 

The  Father 322 

Love  and  Desire 322 

Goodness  and  Greatness 322 

Motives 322 

Natural  and  Transcendental  Philosophers 323 

German   Genius 323 

Trifles 324 

Germany  and  Her  Princes .  326 

To  Proselytizers ....  326 

The  Connecting  Link 326 

The  Moment 326 

German  Comedy 327 

A  Bookseller's  Advertisement 327 

Dangerous  Consequences 327 

The  Greek  Spirit 327 

X 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Children  of  the  Sabbath 327 

The  Philosophers 328 

G.G 331 

The  Homerides 331 

The  Moral  Poet 331 

A  Lofty  Subject 331 

A  Trick 332 

Jeremiads 332 

Knowledge 333 

Kant  and  His  Interpreters 333 

Shakespeare's  Ghost 334 

The  Rivers 337 

The  Metaphysician 340 

The  Worldly  Wise 341 

Pegasus  in  Harness 343 

The  Puppet-Show  of  Life 346 

To  A  Young  Friend  about  to  Take  up  Philosophy  .     .  347 

The  Poetry  of  Life 348 

To  Goethe 350 

To  Mademoiselle  Slevoight 353 

Greek  Genius 354 

Lines  Written  in  a  Friend's  Album 354 

Lines  Written  in  the  Album  of  a  Patron  of  Art  .     .  354 

The  Gift 355 

William  Tell 355 

To  THE  Hereditary  Prince  of  Weimar 356 

The  Beginning  of  the  New  Century 358 

In  October,  1788 360 

-The  Poet's  Farewell         361 


HECTOR'S  FAREWELL. 


Andromache. 

And  must  my  Hector  turn  aside 

To  where  Achilles  bears  in  pride 

His  tribute  to  Patroclus  dead? 

How  teach  our  sons  to  hurl  the  spear, 

And  the  immortal  Gods  revere 

If  thou  the  realms  of  Orcus  tread  ? 

Hector. 

Thy  tears,  my  dearest  wife,  control. 
The  thirst  for  battle  stirs  my  soul  ; 
These  arms  of  mine  our  Troy  must  save. 
The  sacred  hearth  I  will  defend, 
And  falling,  fall  my  country's  friend, 
Then  plunge  into  the  Stygian  wave. 

Andromache. 

The  well-known  clang  of  arms  shall  fade, 
In  idle  halls  shall  lie  thy  blade, 
And  Priam's  glorious  race  expire. 
To  sunless  regions  must  thou  go 
Where  lone  Cocytus  wails  below. 
And  drown  thy  love  in  Lethe's  mire. 

I  B 


HECTOR'S  FAREWELL. 

Hector. 

My  every  thought,  my  every  hope 
In  Lethe's  silent  stream  may  grope, 
But  Hector's  love  shall  never  sink. 

The  foe  is  thundering  at  the  gate, 
Gird  on  my  sword,  thy  grief  abate. 
My  love  dies  not  on  Lethe's  brink. 


AMALIA. 

Fair  as  an  angel,  gayest  of  the  gay, 
Fairer  than  any  other  youth  was  he, 
His  glance  celestial,  like  the  sun  in  May 
Reflected  in  an  azure  crystal  sea. 

His  kisses — sentiments  from  Paradise  ! 
As  though  two  flames  were  locked  in  one  embrace. 
Like  tones  which  from  the  harp  alternate  rise. 
And  blend  in  heaven-born,  harmonious  grace. 

They  rush,  they  fly,  uniting  soul  to  soul, 

Lips  quiver,  cheeks  assume  a  tone  of  fire, 

Hearts  meet,  and  heaven  and  earth  commingled  roll, 

Dissolving  in  the  warmth  of  love's  desire. 

But  he  is  gone — in  vain,  alas  !  in  vain 
We  haunt  him  with  a  melancholy  cry. 
Gone  !     And  life's  pleasure  changes  into  pain, 
Expiring  in  one  lamentable  sigh. 


B  2 


A  GRAVE-GROUND  PHANTASY. 

The  moon  with  sickly  rays 

Upon  the  deathly-silent  thicket  plays, 

The  moaning  spectre  rustles  through  the  air 

Through  mist  and  cloud  and  rain 

The  pallid  stars  in  vain 

Twinkle,  like  lanterns  in  a  sepulchre. 

Like  ghosts,  in  silence,  lank  and  lean, 
A  motley  crowd  in  drear  array, 
Advancing  with  funereal  mien. 
On  to  the  grave-ground  wends  its  way. 

Who  is  this  tottering  by 

On  crutches  bowed,  with  haggard  eye? 

By  iron  fortune  double  bent. 

His  soul  outpoured  in  long  lament, 

He  staggers  toward  the  slow-borne  bier. 

**  Father  "—Was  that  the  faltered  name? 

Chill  tremors  all  his  body  tear. 
Convulse  his  anguish-stricken  frame, 
And  even  stir  his  silver  hair. 

His  burning  wound  reopened  gapes, 
His  soul  is  torn  by  pangs  of  hell  : 
'*  Father  "  his  youthful  lips  escapes, 
*'  Son  "  from  the  father's  whisper  fell. 
4 


A  GRAVE-GROUND  PHANTASY. 

Here  in  his  icy  shroud  he  lies, 
And  thy  fair  dream,  once  bright  as  gold, 
Is  now  a  curse  :  before  thine  eyes 
Lo  !  Father,  wrapped  in  icy  fold 
Thy  rapture  and  thy  Paradise. 

Gentle,  he  springs  from  the  arms  of  Aurora, 
Floating  in  lightest  Elysian  airs  ; 
'Mid  rose-scented  zephyrs  the  heaven-born  Flora 
Her  son  o'er  the  flowery  tapestry  bears. 
Over  the  fairy-like  meadows  he  flitted, 
Mirrored  again  in  the  silvery  stream  ; 
Pursued  and  o'ertaken,  the  maidens  submitted 
To  kisses  which  filled  their  voluptuous  dream. 

Forcing  his  way  through  the  pressure  of  mortals,.. 
Treading  the  hills  with  the  foot  of  a  roe. 
He  lifted  his  hopes  to  the  heavenly  portals, 
In  regions  which  only  the  eagle  may  know. 
Proud  as  the  horses,  which  prancingly  sidle. 
Tossing  in  anger  the  curves  of  their  mane, 
Regally  spurning  the  chafe  of  the  bridle. 
Stood  he,  in  presence  of  prince  or  of  swain. 

The  Spring  of  his  life  fluttered  by  like  a  vision, 
And  Hesperus  guarded  him  ever  in  sight  ; 
With  the  aid  of  the  grape  he  held  pain  in  derision, 
And  sorrows  he  danced  into  whirling  delight. 
Whole  worlds  in  his  glorious  youth  are  reposing ;, 
Ah  !   Father,  with  pride  his  development  scan  ! 
Rejoice  in  the  opening  future,  disclosing 
The  slumbering  germ,  which  shall  ripen  to  man  ! 
5 


A  GRAVE-GROUND  PHANTASY. 

But,  Father,  No  !— Hark  to  the  tolling  bell, 
Hark  where  the  brazen  hinges  creak — 
How  grim  that  dread  sepulchral  spell  ! — 
Yea,  let  the  tears  course  down  thy  cheek  ! 
Go,  gentle  spirit,  sunward  still. 
Be  joyous  till  thy  travels  cease, 
The  long-sought  cup  of  rapture  fill, 
And  freely  taste  Valhalla's  peace. 

To  meet  again — ah  !  blessed  hope — 
To  meet  again  at  Eden's  gate  ! 
Listen,  there  creaks  the  lowering  rope, 
You  hear  the  swaying  coffin  grate  ! 

Helpless  we  reel,  in  dumb  despair — 
Mute,  speaking  only  with  the  eye. — 
Stay  !  from  these  impious  thoughts  forbear  ! 
Rather  let  tears  our  need  supply. 

The  moon  with  sickly  rays 

Upon  the  deathly-silent  thicket  plays, 

The  moaning  spectre  rustles  through  the  air 

Through  mist  and  cloud  and  rain 

The  pallid  stars  in  vain 

Twinkle,  like  lanterns  in  a  sepulchre. 

With  hollow  thud  resounds  the  clay — 

Ah  !  one  last  look  on  earth's  fair  bloom  ! — 

The  bolts  of  death  are  drawn  for  aye. 

Upon  the  coffin  piles  the  shovelled  clay. 

No  restitution  from  the  tomb  ! 


PHANTASY  TO  LAURA. 


Laura,  the  eddying  power  name 
Which  body  unto  body  binds. 
What  is  the  magic  which  can  tame 
And  knit  together  kindred  minds? 

It  guides  the  planets  on  their  way 
And  bids  them  circle  round  the  sun, 
As  children  round  their  mother  play 
And  in  their  merry  gambols  run. 

The  stars  of  heaven  as  they  roll 
Drink  thirstily  the  golden  rain, 
Draw  vigour  from  its  fiery  bowl. 
As  limbs  are  quickened  by  the  brain. 

Atom  with  atom  truly  pairs 
In  balanced  and  harmonious  blend  ; 
In  Love  combine  the  very  Spheres, 
Whole  Systems  on  that  Love  depend. 

From  Nature's  clockwork  Love  withdrawn» 
In  wreck  and  ruin  crumbles  all, 
And  round  your  worlds  shall  Chaos  yawn  ; 
Weep,  Newton,  o'er  that  giant  fall. 

7 


PHANTASY  TO  LAURA. 

From  spirit  world  that  grace  remove, 
And  what  remains  must  shrink  and  die 
Returning  Spring  relies  on  Love  ; 
Loveless,  how  worship  God  on  high  ? 

How  is  it  that  my  Laura's  kiss 
Brings  to  the  cheek  a  rosy  flood, 
Quickens  the  heart  with  gathering  bliss, 
And  madly  stirs  my  fevered  blood  ? 

Each  nerve  beyond  its  tension  springs, 
The  bursting  veins  would  overflow, 
Body  to  body  frenzied  clings, 
And  souls  expire  in  amorous  glow. 

Supreme  o'er  all  the  hidden  powers 
At  work  in  dead  Creation's  womb. 
Love  close  to  gentle  Nature  cowers 
In  sensuous  Arachne's  loom. 

See,  Laura,  how  in  warm  embrace 
Joy  throws  her  kindly  arms  o'er  Grief, 
How  blank  Despair,  nestling  its  face 
On  Hope's  warm  breast,  can  find  relief. 

Love's  sister.  Pleasure,  can  dispel 
Dull  night's  too  melancholy  dreams  ; 
The  golden  tear-drops  upward  well. 
And  forth  the  sunny  radiance  streams. 

Does  not  an  awful  Sympathy 
The  very  haunts  of  Evil  leaven  ? 
In  love  with  Hell  our  vices  sigh. 
But  bear  an  angry  grudge  toward  Heaven. 
8 


PHANTASY  TO  LAURA. 

Round  Sin  foui  serpent-coils  entwine 
— The  Furies,  Shame  and  dull  Remorse- 
And  Danger  slinks  to  undermine 
True  greatness  in  its  lofty  course. 

Ruin  delights  to  toy  with  Pride, 
And  Fortune  writhes  in  Envy's  grip. 
While  sister  Lust,  with  wanton  stride, 
Hastens  her  brother  Death  to  trip. 

On  Love's  light  wings  the  Future  sails, 
And  seeks  a  refuge  in  the  Past. 
The  brideless  Saturn's  quest  prevails 
To  find  Eternity  at  last. 

And  when — thus  Oracles  declare — 
Saturn  his  shrinking  bride  has  found, 
The  World  as  wedding  torch  shall  flare 
Time  with  Eternity  be  bound. 

And  now  a  fairer  morning  pours 
Its  light  upon  our  sweet  alcove. 
As  long  as  lasted  their  amours, 
So  long,  my  Laura,  let  us  love. 


LAURA  AT  THE  SPINET. 

When  the  strings  thy  fingers  sweep, 
Laura,  all  my  spirits  fail, 
Marble-cold  my  forces  sleep, 
Life  and  Death  before  thee  quail. 
For  thy  sovereign  powers  impress 
Hearts — a  very  sorceress. 

Gentle  zephyrs  rustle  by, 
Hanging  on  thy  melody, 
And,  enraptured  by  the  strain, 
Dancing  round  and  round  remain. 
Nature's  self  is  calm  and  still. 
Drinking  in  thy  every  thrill : 
Victim  to  thy  music  she^ 
'Tis  thy  glance  that  conquers  me. 

Heaven-born  harmonies  arise 

In  voluptuous  accord. 

Sweet,  as  though  from  azure  skies 

New-born  Seraphim  upsoared. 

As,  bursting  from  Creation's  womb, 

And  quitting  Chaos'  dreary  zones, 

The  Sun  dispersed  primeval  gloom — 

So  streams  the  magic  of  thy  tones. 

Gentle  now,  as  down  their  course 
Silver  twinkling  ripples  leap, 
Gathering  now  majestic  force 
Like  an  organ  grave  and  deep  ; 

ID 


LAURA  AT  THE  SPINET. 

Bursting  anon  in  storm,  as  from  the  rock 
Descends  the  cataract  with  foaming  shock  ; 
Then  they  murmur  once  again 
In  coquetting  notes  of  love, 
As  the  wanton  airs  complain 
To  the  quivering  aspen  grove. 

And  now  in  slow  and  melancholy  wall. 
As  flutter  ghosts  upon  the  midnight  gale. 
The  damned  proclaim  their  lamentable  fears, 
And  dark  Cocytus  passes,  big  with  tears. 
Ah  !  maiden,  dost  thou  in  communion  dwell 
With  heavenly  Spirits?     I  adjure  thee,  tell ! 
And  is  their  language  (answer,  I  beseech. 
And  hide  it  not)  the  true  Elysian  speech  ? 


II 


TO  LAURA. 

RAPTURE. 

Laura,  above  the  world  I  seem  to  soar 
And  bask  in  light  on  some  celestial  shore 
Whene'er  our  glances  meet. 
Methinks  I  revel  in  ethereal  balm 
When  in  thine  eye  caerulean  and  calm 
My  pictured  self  I  greet. 

The  lyre's  acclaim  from  Paradise  afar, 

The  harp's  accord  from  some  benignant  star, 

Fill  me  with  frenzied  glow. 

My  muse  is  conscious  of  th'  idyllic  hour 

When  from  thy  burning  lips  too  grudging  pour 

The  tones  in  silvery  flow. 

I  see  young  Loves  with  fluttering  wings  outspread, 

The  very  pines  a  merry  measure  tread, 

As  though  at  Orpheus'  call. 

The  poles  around  me  with  increasing  force 

Revolve,  when  in  the  dance's  rippling  course 

Thy  fairy  footsteps  fall. 

Thy  glance — illumined  by  the  smile  of  love — 

To  burning  life  the  very  stone  can  move, 

And  wake  a  pulse  divine  ; 

My  dreams  will  crystallise  to  deed 

If  in  thine  eyes  I  rightly  read  : 

Laura,  Laura  mine ! 


12 


THE  MYSTERY  OF  REMINISCENCE. 


TO  LAURA. 

Who  reveals  to  me  th'  Imperious  need 
Ever  insanely  on  thy  lips  to  feed  ? 
And  who  the  passion  which  would  fain  inhale 
Thy  breath  ;  and  to  the  very  death  prevail, 
So  thou  art  by  ? 

Does  not  my  spirit  unresisting  rise, 
As  conquered  minions  yield,  to  meet  thine  eyes  ? 
Torn  is  my  spirit  with  internal  strife. 
Struggling  in  frenzy  o'er  the  bridge  of  life, 
When  thou  art  near. 

Why  should  my  soul  from  me,  its  master,  stray. 
And  before  thine  its  truant  offering  lay  ? 
Do  they  like  sundered  brothers  meet  again. 
Emancipated  from  their  earthly  chain. 
Before  thine  eyes  ? 

Were  our  two  Essences  already  one  ? 

Does  this  explain  our  heart-beat's  rhythmic  tone  ? 

In  the  departed  light  of  suns  gone  by, 

In  days  of  now  forgotten  ecstasy 

Were  we  combined? 
13 


THE  MYSTERY  OF  REMINISCENCE. 

Aye,  but  we  were  indeed  !  United  fast 
Were  thou  and  I  in  ages  now  long  past ; 
In  the  dark  tablets  of  a  vanished  age 
My  peering  Muse  saw  written  on  the  page : — 
**  Our  Love  is  one." 

And  in  the  rapture  of  our  common  soul, 
Amazed,  I  saw  inscribed  upon  the  roll 
That  we  were  God^  wielding  creative  power. 
And  that  the  world  was  given  as  a  bower 
For  us  to  roam. 

Eternal  streams,  voluptuous  and  sweet. 
Of  heavenly  nectar  babbled  at  our  feet ; 
We  burned  to  open  life's  mysterious  seal, 
And  flew,  the  truth  in  daylight  to  reveal 
On  eager  wings. 

Weep,  Laura,  weep  !  That  God  has  passed  away, 
And  thou  and  I  in  ruined  disarray 
For  the  too  glorious  past  unsated  grieve. 
Once  more  Divinity  we  would  achieve — 
Be  God  again. 

And  hence,  my  Laura,  springs  th'  imperious  need 
Ever  insanely  on  thy  lips  to  feed. 
And  hence  the  passion  which  would  fain  inhale 
Thy  breath,  and  to  the  very  death  prevail. 
So  thou  art  by. 

So  does  my  spirit  unresisting  rise, 
As  conquered  minions  yield,  to  meet  thine  eyes, 
And  thus  my  spirit,  torn  with  inward  strife, 
Struggles  in  frenzy  o'er  the  bridge  of  life 
When  thou  art  near. 
14 


THE  MYSTERY  OF  REMINISCENCE. 

Thus  does  my  soul  from  me,  its  master,  stray, 
And  before  thine  its  truant  offerings  lay  ; 
Emancipated  from  their  earthly  chain, 
The  sundered  brothers  meet,  and  kiss  again 
In  long  embrace. 

And  for  thyself — thy  secret  swift  I  knew. 
Discovered  by  thy  cheek's  empurpled  hue  ; 
Like  near  and  dear  ones,  sped  we  hand  in  hand, 
As  leaps  the  exile  toward  his  native  land  ; 
And  we  were  one  ! 


n 


TO  LAURA. 

MELANCHOLY. 

Laura,  morning's  waking  rays 
In  thy  golden  glances  flame, 
O'er  thy  cheek  the  crimson  strays, 
And  thy  pearl-like  tears  proclaim 
Ecstasy  thy  mother's  name. 
Happy  he  who  can  assign 
To  those  tears  a  source  divine, 
For  to  him  new  suns  arise. 
Shining  from  unclouded  skies. 

And  thy  soul — a  vision  clear, 
Like  a  silver,  sunlit  mere. 
Autumn's  dreary  tints  of  grey 
Can  transform  to  smiling  May, 
Deserts  to  a  radiant  sphere. 
O'er  the  future's  dread  unseen 
Spreadest  thou  a  golden  sheen  ; 
Thou  smil'st  at  Nature's  harmony 
And  grace  ;  but  I  can  only  sigh. 

Powers  of  darkness  ever  creep 
Underneath  this  earth  of  ours  ; 
Castles  frowning  on  the  steep, 
Cities  with  their  stately  towers, 
All  on  mouldering  bones  are  piled 
Thy  carnations  owe  their  bloom 
To  corruption,  and  defiled, 
Fountains  issue  from  the  tomb. 
i6 


TO  LAURA :  MELANCHOLY. 

As  the  planets  upward  sail 
Let  them,  Laura,  tell  their  tale  ! 
Under  their  commanding  zone 
Thousand  thousand  Springs  have  flown, 
Countless  thrones  have  been  upraised, 
Countless  battle-fields  have  blazed. 
Wouldest  thou  the  story  trace  ? 
Seek  it  in  some  iron-bound  place  ! 
Sooner  or  later,  when  the  end  is  nigh. 
Away  the  planet's  chariot  wheels  will  fly, 

'Tis  but  a  twinkle — and  the  Sun 
In  the  sea  of  Death  goes  down  ! 
Prithee,  whence  thy  glances  ?     Say, 
Boastest  thou  that  brilliant  eye. 
Or  thy  cheek's  empurpled  dye. 
Borrowed  all  from  mouldering  clay  ? 
Maid,  expensive  was  the  loan  ; 
To  Death  thou  must  restore  his  own, 
And  heavy  interest  pay. 

Speak  not  of  Death  in  careless  tone ! 
The  rosier  thy  cheeks  appear 
The  more  exalted  is  his  throne. 
Beneath  that  skin  so  fresh  and  fair 
The  foeman  marks  thee  for  his  own. 
Laura, — my  words  no  fancy  deem — 
Deathward  alone  thine  eye  is  bent ; 
With  every  glance  is  nearer  spent 
Thy  life-lamp's  little  gleam. 

'*  But  my  pulses  strong  and  blithe 
Bound  along,"  I  hear  thee  say. 
Ah  !  But  the  tyrant's  creatures  writhe 
Insidiously  towards  decay. 

17  C 


TO  LAURA  :  MELANCHOLY. 

Death  thy  smiles  away  shall  sweep, 
As  the  tempest  o'er  the  deep 
Drives  the  many-coloured  foam. 
Vain  it  is  to  seek  their  trace 
Limned  in  Nature's  smiling  face, 
In  life  itself,  as  though  his  home, 
The  dread  Destroyer  takes  his  place. 

Alas  !  thy  roses  wind-shorn  lie, 
Thy  lovely  mouth  is  hushed  and  pale. 
The  levelling  storm,  the  Winter's  gale 
Thy  cheeks'  entrancing  beauty  try. 
The  misty  light  of  drooping  years 
The  silver  stream  of  youth  will  dull ; 
In  Laura's  love  will  come  a  lull, 
As  her  attraction  disappears. 

Maiden,  thy  Poet,  sturdy  as  an  oak 

Stands  :  on  his  hardy  youth  descends  in  vain 

The  piercing  shaft,  the  death-compelling  stroke ; 

My  glances — blazing  as  the  lamps  which  reign 

In  heaven's  self — my  soul  more  ruddy  bright 

Than  even  heaven's  everlasting  fires, 

Such  sea-swept  heavens  as  alternate  smite 

In  fury,  then  up-build  the  craggy  spires. 

Through  boundless  space  my  thoughts  unfettered  move, 

And  nothing  fear  but  their  own  narrow  groove. 

With  pride,  my  Laura,  does  thy  bosom  swell  ? 
Know  then,  fair  maid,  the  waters  of  this  well, 
This  cup  from  which  the  Godhead  seems  to  speak, 
With  poison  reek  ! 
Ah  !    Thrice  unhappy  who  essay 
To  strike  the  spark  divine  from  clay. 

i8 


TO  LAURA:  MELANCHOLY. 

Before  the  bold  harmonious  note 
The  trembling  harp-strings  leap  and  burst, 
And  Genius'  rays  in  space  which  float 
On  life's  poor  flame  alone  are  nursed. 

Subservient  guardians  before  him  prone 

Lie,  and  detach  him  from  his  living  throne ! 

Alas  !  my  spirits,  stirred  to  impious  fire. 

In  league  are  bound,  and  'gainst  myself  conspire. 

Let  two  brief  Springs,  my  Laura,  pass — 

But  two — and  then  this  house  of  clay 

Will  fall,  a  tottering  ruined  mass, 

Extinguishing  my  feeble  ray. 

Dost  weep,  my  Laura? — Dry  those  tears, 
Which  but  lament  my  tale  of  years  ! 
Nay,  dry  those  tears  for  very  shame  ! 
Would  Laura  see  my  forces  fail. 
Would  she  behold  me  shrink  and  quail, 
Who  knew  me  in  my  youthful  fame  ? 
She  hear  my  frozen  spirit  chide 
The  fervour  of  my  early  pride, 
And  mark  my  ageing  conscience  pour 
Rebuke  on  favourite  sins  of  yore  ? 
Nay,  dry  those  tears  for  very  shame ! 

Yes  !    Cull  the  flower  in  its  bloom. 
And  thou,  good  youth,  enwrapped  in  gloom, 
My  life's  torch  quench  in  tears. 
As  falls  the  curtain  on  the  tragic  stage 
And,  rustling  down,  conceals  the  fairest  page, 
The  shadows  fly  : — the  crowd  still  sits  and  hears. 


19  c  2 


THE  INFANTICIDE. 

Hark — where  the  bells  their  sad  accord  proclaim, 
The  clock  accomplishes  its  ordered  round. 
So  be  it,  then — And  in  th'  Almighty's  name  ! 
Come,  grave-attendants,  to  the  fatal  ground. 
Accept,  oh  World,  this  kiss — it  is  my  last ! 
Take  this  last  tear,  which  from  mine  eyelid  starts  I 
Thy  poisons — sweet  they  tasted  in  the  past. 
Now  we  are  quits,  thou  poisoner  of  hearts  ! 

Farewell,  ye  friendly  pleasures  of  the  light. 
Now  yielding  place  to  crumbling  dark  decay  ! 
And  fare  thou  well,  thou  Spring  of  rapture  bright  I 
Who  knew  so  well  a  maiden's  heart  to  sway. 
And  farewell  too,  ye  golden-webbed  dreams, 
Capricious  phantasies  from  Paradise  ! 
Alas  !  they  vanished  with  the  morning  beams, 
And  softly  melted,  never  to  arise. 

A  bow  of  rosy  pink  I  used  to  wear, 
A  swan-white  robe  mine  innocence  arrayed  ; 
And  in  the  masses  of  my  golden  hair, 
But  half-concealed,  the  little  rosebuds  played. 
Alas  !  to  Hell's  embrace  she  is  consigned  ! 
The  swan-white  garment  still  indeed  she  wears> 
But  where  the  rosy  bow  was  used  to  wind, 
Token  of  death,  a  mourning  fillet  stares. 

20 


THE  INFANTICIDE. 

Ah  !  weep  for  me,  ye  pure,  who  never  fell, 
In  whose  sweet  innocence  the  lilies  grow ; 
Ye,  in  whose  soft  and  kindly  bosoms  dwell 
The  strength  and  virtue  Nature  can  bestow. 
To  human  love,  alas  !  my  heart  I  gave. 
And  human  love  shall  prove  th'  avenging  blade  I 
By  a  false  arm  deceived — a  villain's  slave — 
Virtue  was  lulled,  and — woe  is  me  ! — betrayed. 

And  now,  forgetful  of  this  viper's  heart, 
Perchance  he  calls  another  to  his  arms  ; 
And,  even  to  the  grave  as  I  depart, 
Hovers  around  her  as  she  tricks  her  charms ! 
Perchance  with  some  fresh  maiden's  locks  he  plays 
And  drinks  the  kiss  she  willingly  bestows. 
E'en  at  the  moment  when  in  throbbing  sprays 
Over  the  fatal  block  my  life-blood  flows. 

Ah  !  Joseph,  Joseph,  wheresoe'er  thou  go, 
Louisa's  doleful  death-chant  shall  attend, 
And  the  clock-tower's  muffled  stroke  of  woe. 
Relentless,  on  thy  tortured  ear  descend. 
And,  if  it  hap  some  gentle  maiden's  tone 
Tickle  thy  senses  with  her  lisping  love, 
Be  thy  voluptuous  picture  overthrown, 
A  hell-distorted  image  may  it  prove  ! 

What,  traitor,  are  Louisa's  troubles  nought  ? 
Hard-hearted  man,  is  nought  a  woman's  shame? 
Nothing  the  babe  which  still  is  but  a  thought? 
Why,  these  the  very  beasts  of  prey  might  tame ! 

I  mark  his  stately  sails  an  ofiing  gain. 
And  follow  quivering  with  misty  eyes  ; 
— It  is  yon  maidens  by  the  banks  of  Seine 
O'er  whom  he  whimpers  his  perfidious  sighs ! 

21 


THE  INFANTICIDE. 

And  then  the  child  !— Upon  its  mother's  breast 

It  lay  in  happy,  innocent  repose ; 

Its  fascinating  little  smile  possessed 

The  charm  which  glorifies  the  morning  rose. 

Each  lineament  a  fatal  beauty  wore 

To  me,  enraptured  by  its  form  so  fair  : 

Conflicting  sentiments  my  bosom  tore — 

On  this  side,  Love — on  that,  a  blank  Despair. 

**  Where  is  my  Father,  woman  ?  "  rose  the  cry 

From  babbling  innocence,  yet  thunder  deep ; 

*' Where,  woman,  is  thy  Husband? — Make  reply!" 

— And  at  the  words  my  inmost  heart  would  creep. 

Alas  !  poor  babe,  thou  seekest  him  in  vain. 

And  other  children  may  enjoy  his  smiles  ; 

And  thou  shalt  curse  the  passing  hour,  whose  stain 

Thy  memory  with  the  Bastard's  name  defiles. 

Thy  Mother  !  Hell  within  her  bosom  burns  ! 
In  the  whole  universe  alone  is  she. 
And  vainly  for  the  fount  of  joy  she  yearns, 
Embittered  by  her  every  glance  at  thee. 
Each  word  that  from  thine  infant  lips  proceeds 
Recalls  the  days  of  happiness  gone  by, 
And  cruel  Death's  avenging  arrow  speeds 
From  the  young  laughter  of  thy  dancing  eye. 

Hell !  All  is  Hell,  whether  I  see  thee  there, 
Or  whether  from  mine  eyes  thou  art  withheld. 
Thy  kisses  like  the  Furies'  lashes  tear, 
While  his  with  zest  my  ravished  lips  compelled ; 
His  oaths  like  thunder  from  the  tomb  resound, 
His  perjured  tones  my  failing  senses  stun. 
— Then,  in  the  Hydra's  devilish  fetters  bound, 
i  yielded — and  the  hideous  deed  was  done ! 

22 


THE  INFANTICIDE. 

Joseph,  I  pray  that  unto  miles  untold 
The  horrid  spectre  may  thy  steps  attend, 
In  his  chill  grasp  thy  shrinking  form  enfold. 
And  thundering,  o'er  thy  dreams  of  bliss  impend. 
May  the  stars  winking  in  their  pallid  skies 
For  ever  point  thee  to  the  murdered  child, 
And  be  thou  hounded  in  thy  bloody  guise 
From  Paradise,  tormented  and  reviled ! 

— There  at  my  feet  behold  it  lying — dead  I 

Benumbed  with  cold,  my  senses  all  astray, 

I  saw  his  life-blood  as  it  gently  sped. 

And  with  that  blood  my  life  too  stole  away. 

— I  hear  the  dreaded  messenger  of  doom 

Knock,  yet  in  louder  accents  beats  my  heart ! 

Gladly  I  hasten  to  the  icy  tomb 

So  it  extinguish  this  tormenting  smart. 

Joseph,  from  God  above  thou  mayst  receive 
Pardon  ;  the  sinner's  self  may  grant  thee  grace  ; 
My  pains  and  sorrows  to  the  world  I  leave. 
— Forward,  ye  flames,  the  dreaded  pile  efface  ! 
— 'Tis  well !  Ablaze  his  letters  disappear. 
His  oaths  are  swallowed  in  the  conquering  fire ; 
Those  kisses,  which  on  earth  I  held  so  dear, 
In  sputtering  sparks  exalt  the  fatal  pyre. 

Trust  not  the  roses  of  thy  youthful  cheek. 
Nor  ever,  sisters,  on  man's  word  rely ; 
Beauty  it  was  which  caused  my  virtue's  wreck. 
And  now  I  curse  that  beauty  as  I  die. 
— Tears  !  How  can  tears  a  headsman's  eyes  bedew  ? 
Quick  !  Bind  the  fatal  veil  upon  my  face. 
Headsman,  dost  fear  a  lily-stalk  to  hew? 
Pale  executioner,  I  ask  no  grace  ! 
23 


THE  GREATNESS  OF  THE  WORLD. 

'Mid  the  burst  of  Creation  from  Chaos  unfurled, 

On  the  wings  of  the  wind  I  soar  over  the  world  ; 

On  the  uttermost  strand 

Of  its  ocean  I  land  ; 

And  anchor  where  never  a  zephyr  is  known, 

And  Creation  has  planted  its  boundary  stone. 

I  saw  the  young  stars  from  their  cradle  arise, 

And  start  on  their  infinite  course  through  the  skies  ; 

I  watched  them  at  play 

To  their  goal  as  they  sway  ; 

— It  was  but  a  moment,  and  looking  again, 

I  gazed  upon  void — not  a  star  in  the  Main  ! 

To  the  regions  of  space  I  courageously  steer, 

Outspeeding  the  light  in  mine  airy  career  ; 

The  heavens  are  dim 

*Neath  the  mists  as  they  skim  ; 

Whole  systems  of  planets,  whole  oceans  in  flood 

Round  the  track  of  the  sun-hunting  wanderer  scud. 

Lo  !     A  pilgrim  I  meet  on  my  desolate  way. 
— **  Hold,  there,  brother  Palmer,  thy  purpose  display  ! ' 
**To  the  world's  very  end 
My  direction  I  bend, 

To  the  harbour  where  never  a  zephyr  is  known, 
And  Creation  has  planted  its  boundary  stone." 

24 


THE  GREATNESS  OF  THE  WORLD. 

**  Thou  courtest  the  Infinite,  sailest  in  vain  !  " 

**  Good  pilgrim,  thou  sail'st  on  a  similar  plane ! 

— Thy  wings  thou  must  fold 

Be  they  never  so  bold  ! 

However  adventurous  Phantasy's  ship, 

The  anchor  of  Phantasy  never  can  grip.'* 


25 


ELEGY  ON  THE  DEATH  OF  A  YOUTH.i 

Such  dismal  moaning  as  a  storm  precedes 
With  smothered  echoes  fills  the  house  of  woe, 
The  death-chime  from  the  Minster  tower  pleads  ! 
A  youth  is  carried  forth  with  footsteps  slow. 
A  stripling — not  yet  ripened  for  the  tomb, 
Plucked  prematurely  in  his  early  days, 
His  pulses  strong,  his  cheeks  in  ruddy  bloom, 
The  fire  yet  flashing  from  his  eager  gaze. — 
A  son — his  mother's  darling  (you  may  tell 
From  that  long  lamentable  cry  of  pain) 
My  bosom  friend — alas  !  my  brother  too — 
An  ye  be  men,  follow  the  mournful  train  ! 

Boast  ye,  ye  lofty,  hoary-headed  pines 

Who  shrink  not  from  the  storm,  nor  thunders  fear? 

Ye  mountain  tops  on  which  the  heavens  recline  ? 

Ye  heavens,  that  whole  suns  march  in  your  sphere  ? 

Dost  boast,  thou  grey-beard,  that  this  honoured  name 

On  great  achievement's  swelling  wave  relies  ? 

And  does  the  hero  boast  his  ancient  fame. 

Safe  in  his  glorious  temple  in  the  skies  ? 

Let  once  the  canker  worm  the  bud  assail, 

And  who  but  fools  will  battle  with  decay  ? 

Above  or  here  below  what  can  avail 

When  Death  in  such  a  stripling  finds  a  prey  ? 

1  The  youth's  name  was  Johann  Christian  Weckherlin. 
26 


ELEGY  ON  THE  DEATH  OF  A  YOUTH. 

His  early  years  slid  by  with  flying  feet, 
Each  day  a  rosy-coloured  garment  wore, 
And — ah  !  to  him  the  world  was  very  sweet. 
The  future  promised  an  enchanting  store. 
He  saw  a  life  of  Paradise  unfold, 
And  all  things  glitter  in  eternal  gold. 
Yet  even  as  the  mother's  tear-drop  fell, 
The  realms  of  Death  before  him  opened  wide ; 
The  fatal  threads  were  severed,  and  the  spell 
Swept  heaven  and  earth  relentlessly  aside. 
Thoughts  of  the  grave  in  vain  he  would  defy  — 
Ah  !  sweet  the  world  to  those  about  to  die  ! 

Deaf  is  that  narrow  house,  and  silence  reigns, 
Its  tenant's  slumbers  are  prolonged  and  deep  ; 
No  scope  for  thine  exalted  hope  remains, 
Beloved  brother,  in  this  endless  sleep. 
Oft  in  the  sunshine  basks  thy  favourite  hill, 
But  what  to  thee  are  those  inspiring  rays  ? 
Though  to  the  breeze  the  flowers  curtsey  still, 
Their  rustle  nothing  to  thine  ear  conveys. 
Thy  glance  will  sparkle  never  more  with  love, 
In  thine  embrace  no  bride  will  ever  sigh. 
And  though  our  tears  a  very  torrent  prove, 
Thine  eyes  must  close  for  ever — thou  must  die. 

Yet  not  amiss  ! — Well  earned  is  thy  repose  ; 
At  peace  thou  art  within  thy  strait  domain  ; 
Thy  pleasures  perish,  but  no  less  thy  woes. 
And  thou  hast  respite  from  this  world  of  pain. 
Over  thee  now  calumnious  tongues  may  wag, 
Temptation  issue  from  its  poisoned  well. 
The  sleek-faced  Pharisee  may  smirk  and  brag, 
And  hypocrites  consign  thy  soul  to  hell, 
27 


ELEGY  ON  THE  DEATH  OF  A  YOUTH. 

Swindlers  through  apostolic  masks  may  leer, 
And  stern  uprightness'  bastard  daughter  play, 
Throwing  the  dice  of  chance,  with  mortals  here, 
And  on  for  ever  to  the  Judgment  day. 

And  may  Dame  Fortune  on  thy  steps  attend, 
As  on  her  favourites  she  loves  to  fawn  ; 
One  moment  men  a  tottering  throne  ascend, 
Anon  behold  them  through  a  quagmire  drawn. 
Rest  thou  at  peace  within  thy  narrow  grave  ! 
This  tragi-comical  extravagance, 
This  hazard  borne  on  a  tempestuous  wave. 
This  stupid  lottery — this  game  of  chance. 
This  idle  throng  which  does  but  seem  to  toil, 
The  weary  task  which  counterfeits  repose, 
Brother  ! — From  all  this  hellish  Heaven  recoil, 
On  sights  like  these  thine  eyes  for  ever  close. 

Farewell,  thou  trusty  confidant,  farewell. 
Our  loving  blessings  gently  round  thee  soar  ! 
Slumber  in  peace  in  thy  sepulchral  cell, 
Slumber  in  peace  until  we  meet  once  more  ! 
Till  o'er  these  hills  sw^elling  with  human  clay 
The  trumpet  of  th'  Omnipotent  shall  sound, 
And,  Death's  benumbing  fetters  swept  away. 
Before  God's  blast  the  startled  corpses  bound  ; 
Until,  impregnated  with  God's  own  breath, 
The  graves  bring  forth  :  and  at  the  blare  of  doom, 
Amid  the  smoke  of  bursting  planets,  Death 
The  very  dead  surrenders  from  the  tomb. 

Though  not  in  worlds  imagined  by  the  wise, 
Nor  yet  in  heavens,  as  the  bards  pretend. 
Nor  in  some  artificial  Paradise — 
Yet  we  shall  overtake  thee  in  the  end. 
28 


ELEGY  ON  THE  DEATH  OF  A  YOUTH. 

Can  it  be  true  that,  as  the  Pilgrim  said, 

Beyond  the  tomb  there  still  is  room  for  thought  ? 

That  virtue  o'er  the  grave  a  bridge  can  spread  ? 

Or  are  these  fancies  which  must  count  for  nought  ? 

To  thee  these  mysteries  are  now  laid  bare, 

And  Truth  refreshes  thine  enraptured  soul, 

The  very  Truth,  illumined  by  the  glare 

Which  flashes  from  th'  Almighty  Father's  bowl. 

Advance,  thou  grim  and  silent  bearer  train 
E'en  he  must  garnish  the  Avenger's  board  ! 
Cease  your  laments  and  from  your  cries  abstain, 
Let  dust  on  dust  over  the  mound  be  poured  ! 
Who  is  the  man  to  question  God's  decree  ? 
And  whose  the  eye  th'  abysses  to  explore  ? 
God  of  the  dismal  tomb,  we  worship  thee, 
But  tremble,  shuddering,  as  we  adore. 

Dust  may  in  dust  again  its  fellow  find, 
But  from  its  crumbling  home  the  soul  will  fly  ; 
His  ashes  may  be  scattered  to  the  wind, 
His  love  remains  for  ever  and  for  aye 


29 


THE  BATTLE. 


In  solid  grim  array, 

Like  a  storm-cloud  moist  and  gray, 

They  stagger  on  their  march  across  the  plain 

Through  the  never-ending  zone 

Where  the  iron  dice  are  thrown  : 

A  stealthy  backward  glance  who  can  restrain  ? 

Hearts  almost  beat  aloud, 

When  before  the  pale-faced  crowd 

The  Major  sharply  gallops  to  the  front. 

Halt! 

The  ranks  respond  to  the  abrupt  command. 

Silent  and  motionless  the  regiments  stand. 

What  is  that  in  the  dawning  glow 

Glimmering  over  the  height  ? 

Do  the  enemy's  standards  show? 

Yes,  they  are  well  in  sight. 

God  be  with  you,  wife  and  child  ! 

Do  they  sing  as  they  come  ? 

Hark  to  the  scream  of  their  piping  wild 

And  the  rolling  of  the  drum  ! 

A  burst  of  barbaric,  melodious  tone  : 

It  curdles  the  marrow  and  shivers  the  bone  ! 
God  keep  you,  comrades,  in  His  love 
Till  we  meet  again  in  the  world  above  ! 
30 


THE  BATTLE. 

Lightning  flashes  seem  to  glare, 
Crashing  thunders  split  the  air. 
Eyelids  quiver  'neath  the  blast, 
Watchwords  through  the  host  are  passed. 
Be  it  so  !     The  watchwords  tell ; 
Bolder  now  our  bosoms  swell. 
Death  stalks  abroad  :  an  iron  hail 
Pours  through  the  murky  sulphur  veil. 

In  grim  embrace  the  hosts  are  locked. 

*'  Ready  "  's  the  word  ;    the  guns  are  cocked. 

Kneeling  the  foremost  rank 

Fires  ;  some  fall  to  rise  no  more. 

Volleys  of  grape  in  torrents  pour, 

Yet  filled  is  every  blank. 

Death  right  and  left  and  all  around : 

Whole  regiments  welter  on  the  ground. 

The  sun  goes  down,  yet  still  they  fight. 

And  over  the  army  descends  the  night. 

God  keep  you,  comrades,  in  His  love 
Till  we  meet  again  in  the  world  above ! 

The  living  mingle  with  the  dead, 

On  corpses  falls  the  stumbling  tread. 

And  spouting  streams  of  blood  descend. 

— '*What,    Frank,    thou  there?      My  Charlotte  greet, 

good  friend  !  " 
(Wilder  the  tide  of  battle  rolled.) 
"  I  will !  "     But,  oh  my  lads,  behold  ! 
The  grape  is  bursting  in  our  rear  ! 
*'  Thy  Charlotte  I  will  greet,  friend  ;  have  no  fear ! 
Repose  in  peace  !     Where  most  the  bullets  fly. 
Forlorn  and  friendless,  comrade,  there  stand  I." 

31 


THE  BATTLE. 

Hither,  thither  sways  the  fight, 
Dark  over  the  army  broods  the  night, 

God  keep  you,  comrades,  in  His  love 
Till  we  meet  again  in  the  world  above  I 

Ha  !  what  was  that  went  crashing  by  ? 

In  every  direction  the  gallopers  fly. 

The  dragoons  are  right  in  the  thick  of  the  foe. 

And  his  murderous  thunders  feebler  grow. 

Comrades,  'tis  Victory  ! 

Their  craven  limbs  in  terror  quail, 

And  in  the  dust  his  standards  trail. 

Decided  is  the  bloody  fight ; 
Victorious  day  dispels  the  night  ! 
The  rolling  drums,  the  fifers  shrill 
The  air  with  strains  of  triumph  fill ! 
Farewell,  dear  comrades,  who  linger  here  t 
We  shall  meet  again  in  another  sphere  I 


32 


ROUSSEAU. 


A  monument  to  point  our  Age's  shame, 

A  blot  for  ever  on  thy  country's  fame, 

Grave  of  Rousseau,  to  me  thou  art  right  dear  ! 

Over  thy  ruined  hfe  may  quiet  reign — 

That  quiet  peace  thyself  had  sought  in  vain — 

Quiet  and  peace  at  least  thou  findest  here  ! 

When  will  these  ancient  w^ounds  be  covered  o'er  ? 

The  v^rise  oft  perished  in  dark  days  of  yore  ; 

Now  days  are  brighter,  yet  they  die  as  then. 

Socrates  to  the  Sophists  fell  a  prey, 

Rousseau  yields  to  the  Christians  of  to-day  : 

— Rousseau  ! — who  out  of  Christians  fashioned  men, 


33 


FRIENDSHIP. 


The  maker  of  the  Universe,  my  friend, 
Finds  not  in  little  thoughts  themselves  an  end, 
Ranged  in  laborious  and  ordered  row. 
The  fly-wheel  once  in  motion,  it  will  turn 
(As  my  dear  Newton  failed  not  to  discern) 
Pinions  in  realms  above  and  those  below. 

It  drives  the  spheres  with  overmastering  rein, 
The  world's  great  heart  in  fetters  to  enchain, 
As  in  their  labyrinthine  course  they  glide — 
And  spirit-forms  in  intertwining  throng 
Toward  the  great  master-spirit  press  along, 
As  press  the  rivers  to  the  ocean  tide. 

And  was  it  not  this  influence  divine 
Which  knit  our  hearts  for  ever — thine  and  mine- 
In  an  exultant  fellowship  of  love  ? 
Ah  !  Raphael,  leaning  on  thine  arm,  e'en  I 
Dare  press  in  glad,  confiding  ecstasy 
To  the  great  master-spirit  up  above. 

Ah  !  happy  moment,  w^hen  I  found  thy  trace, 
Held  thee,  'mid  millions,  in  my  fond  embrace ; 
(For  amid  millions  thou  alone  art  mine.) 
Even  if  Chaos  split  the  world  in  twain. 
Yet  kindred  atoms  will  unite  again  ; 
Happen  what  may,  our  spirits  will  combine. 

34 


FRIENDSHIP. 

Mine  own  voluptuous  joy  I  recognise 
Truly  reflected  in  thy  flashing  eyes. 
I  marvel  even  at  myself — in  thee  ! 
The  earth  is  painted  in  still  warmer  tints, 
And  my  beloved's  attitude  imprints 
On  heaven  itself  his  own  divinity. 

Its  darker  moods  dejection  lightly  cheers 
By  throwing  off"  her  heavy  load  of  tears 
On  to  the  gentle  breast  of  love  divine. 
Why,  do  not  even  rapture's  torturing  throes 
In  thine  eyes'  eloquence  bespeak  repose — 
And  find  therein  a  lasting,  happy  shrine  ? 

If  in  the  Universe  I  stood  alone, 

I  would  imagine  souls  in  every  stone, 

And  each  with  ravishing  caresses  greet. 

The  winds  of  heaven  should  hear  my  bitter  cry, 

And  if  the  abysses  only  made  reply, 

Fool  that  I  am  ! — still,  sympathy  is  sweet ! 

Insensate  bodies  are  we  when  we  hate — 
Gods,  when  in  love  our  anger  we  abate  ! 
After  the  gentle  thrall  of  bonds  we  yearn  ! 
Up  and  along  the  many-threaded  course 
Of  countless  souls,  which  lack  creative  force, 
The  overmastering  impulse  bids  us  turn. 

So,  arm  in  arm,  in  lofty  course  we  steer 
Down  from  the  Mongol  to  the  Grecian  seer, 
(Nearest  of  kinsmen  to  the  Seraph  host). 
And  on  with  rhythmical  accord  we  sweep. 
Till  in  the  glory  of  th'  eternal  deep 
The  sense  of  Time  and  Measurement  is  lost. 
35  02 


FRIENDSHIP. 

Unfriended  was  the  ruler  of  the  skies  : 
He  felt  his  need,  and  bade  the  Spirits  rise 
His  glory,  mirror-like,  to  testify. 
No  peer  that  wondrous  Being  ever  knew  ;, 
From  the  vast  cup  of  Spirit-life  he  drew 
The  foaming  opulence — Eternity  ! 


36 


A  GROUP  FROM  TARTARUS. 


Hark  ! — Like  the  murmur  of  the  angry  sea, 

As  wails  the  stream  which  scours  the  hollowed  stone, 

Resounds  in  doleful,  lamentable  key 

A  tortured  moan  ! 

Yon  features  are  distraught  with  pain. 

And  their  blaspheming  throats  in  vain 

Battle  against  despair. 

With  hollow  eyes  and  frenzied  look 

Upon  Cocytus'  darkling  brook 

In  tearful  gaze  they  stare. 

Must  they,  each  piteously  implores. 
For  ever  thus  in  anguish  writhe  ? — 
Eternity  above  them  soars. 
And  split  in  twain  is  Saturn's  scythe. 


37 


ELYSIUM. 


A  truce  all  lamentable  cries ! 
Elysium's  festal  shouts  arise 
And  drown  each  note  of  woe — 
The  rapturous  Elysian  life 
Skims  gently  past  all  worldly  strife, 
As  streams  through  pastures  flow. 

With  her  benign  and  youthful  mien 
There  hovers  o'er  the  ample  scene 
An  everlasting  May  : 
The  hours  escape  in  golden  dreams, 
The  soul  to  boundless  limits  streams, 
Truth  tears  the  veil  away. 

Here  an  unbroken  strain  of  bliss 

Wells  undulating  through  the  heart. 

The  very  name  of  grief  we  miss, 

And  *'  Rapture  "  stands  for  sorrow's  smart. 

Here  the  far-travelled  pilgrim's  limbs  are  laid, 
Weary,  beneath  the  cool  and  rustling  shade, 
And  for  all  time  his  burden  here  he  leaves. 
The  sickle  falls  from  the  unheeding  swain, 
And,  yielding  to  the  harp's  entrancing  strain. 
He  sees  in  dreams  th'  already  garnered  sheaves. 

38 


ELYSIUM. 

He,  whose  tall  ensigns  woke  the  thunder's  peal, 
Whose  ears  were  hardened  to  the  clash  of  steel, 
At  whose  stern  tread  the  mountains  bowed  in  fear, 
Sleeps  calmly  now  beside  the  rippling  ghyll, 
Which  babbles  o'er  these  stones  with  silver  trill, 
Forgetful  of  his  fury-dealing  spear. 

Here  loving  pairs  their  faithful  ardour  plead. 
Embracing  on  the  emerald  velvet  mead, 
By  gentle  zephyrs  fondled  and  caressed  ; 
Here  Love  at  length  its  chaplet  shall  attain, 
And  free  from  death  and  its  attendant  pain, 
For  ever  celebrate  the  bridal  feast. 


39 


THE  FUGITIVE. 

Fresh  rustles  the  morning's  enlivening  breeze  : 

The  newly-born  light  through  the  gloom  of  the  trees 

Right  rosily  peeps  ;  through  the  bushes  it  shines, 

And  winks  in  the  glades  of  the  sorrowful  pines. 

The  cloud-capped  mountains  raise 

Their  heads  in  golden  blaze. 

In  happy,  melodious,  twittering  tone 

The  awakening  larks  pay  their  court  to  the  Sun, 

As  he  smilingly  rises  with  juvenile  grace. 

Aglow  with  the  thrill  of  Aurora's  embrace. 

Ah  !  blessed  ye  beams, 

Whose  irradiance  streams 

In  cherishing  warmth  over  pasture  and  plain. 

What  a  silvery  tint 

On  the  fields  as  they  glint 

Like  thousands  of  suns  from  the  dew-drops  again  ! 

In  the  genial  shade, 

Like  a  frolicsome  maid. 

Young  nature  is  caught  at  her  play. 

The  breeze  interposes, 

And  coaxes  the  roses. 

And  sprinkles  an  odorous  balm  on  its  way. 

Tall  curtains  of  smoke  o'er  the  cities  are  wreathing  ; 
And  neighing  and  snorting  and  stamping  and  breathing 

40 


THE  FUGITIVE. 

Come  horses  and  kine  : 

The  wagons  incline 

Towards  the  billowy  vale. 

To  life  the  wood  springs  ; 

Hawk,  falcon  and  eagle  unfetter  their  wings, 

And  balance  and  poise  in  the  beams  as  they  sail. 

Ah  !  where  may  I  hope 

For  repose,  as  I  grope 

And  totter  along  in  despair  ? 

The  world  may  be  glad. 

But  my  heart  remains  sad. 

For  'tis  only  a  grave  which  is  there. 

Arise,  thou  rosy  morning  light,  and  tinge 
With  purple  kiss  the  wooded  plain  unfurled  ; 
And  may  the  blush  of  gentle  even  fringe 
The  peaceful  slumbers  of  the  dying  world. 
Morning  !  alas,  thy  gilded  hue 
O'er  a  death-haunted  prospect  glows, 
And  rays  of  evening  but  bedew 
My  everlasting  deep  repose. 


41 


THE  FLOWERS. 

Ye  children  of  the  youthful  Sun, 

Ye  flowers  of  the  varied  field, 

In  bliss  your  early  days  were  run, 

And  Nature's  kiss  your  childhood  sealed  j 

Clad  in  embroidery  of  light, 

And  by  fair  Flora's  hands  bedight, 

Godlike,  with  every  radiant  hue. 

And  yet,  my  children,  ye  must  sigh, 
For  Flora  did  a  soul  deny. 
And  darkness  must  your  life  imbrue. 

Lark  and  nightingale  may  sing 

In  your  ears  with  loving  plea, 

Twinkling,  amorous  sylphs  may  cling 

Wantonly  about  your  knee. 

Aphrodite's  self  may  trace 

Calyx  crowns  your  heads  to  grace, 

As  on  love  they  cushioned  lie. 

Yet,  my  children,  ye  must  weep  : — 
Love  with  all  its  feelings  deep 
She  has  chosen  to  deny. 

But,  though  my  mother's  stern  command 

Forbids  my  darling  to  behold, 

Yet,  when  in  my  ecstatic  hand 

Thy  dainty  love-pledge  I  enfold, 

Then  life  and  speech  and  soul  and  heart, 

From  contact    into  being  start, 

Tokens  of  calm  and  soothing  grief. 

Then  all  that  highest  Heaven  sends 
Within  your  gentle  petals  blends, 
And  brings  divine  relief. 
42 


TO   SPRING. 


Hail  in  thy  youthful  beauty, 
In  Nature's  fairest  mien  ! 
With  flowery  baskets  laden, 
Be  welcome  on  the  scene  ! 

What  ho  !  art  thou  returning-, 
Who  art  so  blithe  and  gay  ? 
Then  heartily  we  greet  thee, 
And  meet  thee  on  the  way. 

Bethink  thee  of  my  maiden  ; 
Ah,  dear  one,  dost  thou  mind  ? 
That  maiden  loved  me  dearly, 
And  still  that  maid  is  kind. 

Full  many  a  little  flower 
I  begged  for  her  from  thee — 
Once  more  I  come  entreating  : 
What  will  thine  answer  be  ? 

Hail  in  thy  youthful  beauty, 
In  Nature's  fairest  mien  ! 
With  flowery  baskets  laden, 
Be  welcome  on  the  scene  ! 


43 


TO   MINNA. 

Am  I  dreaming-  ?     Is  mine  eye 
Dimmed  ?     Do  I  distinctly  see  ? 
What  !     My  Minna  passing  by, 
And  she  will  not  look  at  me  ! 
On  some  dandy's  arm  to  glide, 
With  a  flippant  fan  to  play, 
Lost  in  vanity  and  pride — 
That  is  not  my  Minna's  way. 

On  her  dainty  bonnet  toss 
Lordly  plumes — my  gift  they  were. 
Bows  which  o'er  her  bosom  cross 
Whisper  : — ''  Minna,  have  a  care  !  " 
Flowers  which  myself  I  grew 
On  her  hair  and  breast  are  spread  : 
Ah  !  that  breast  has  proved  untrue, 
Yet  the  flowers  are  not  dead  ! 

Go,  thy  flatterers  at  thy  side  ! 
Let  me  from  thy  memory  fade. 
Venal  toadies  are  thy  guide  ; 
I  despise  thee,  fickle  maid. 
Go  !     For  thee  beat  once  a  heart, 
Throbbing  to  a  noble  key  ; 
Now  it  knows  the  bitter  smart 
Of  adoring  fools  like  thee. 
44 


TO  MINNA. 

In  thy  beauty's  wrecked  remains 
I  behold  thee  all  forlorn, 
Doomed,  in  these  thy  present  pains, 
Happy  days  of  youth  to  mourn. 
Swallows  which  in  Spring-time  pair 
Fly  before  the  Northern  blast. 
Gathering"  years  your  wooers  scare, 
And  your  friend  aside  is  cast. 

Those  who  once  for  Minna's  kiss 
With  enraptured  fervour  sighed, 
Now  thy  vanished  beauty  miss. 
And  thy  drooping  years  deride. 

Shall  not  I,  then,  mock  thee  too  ? 
Mock  thee,  Minna  ? — God  forefend  ! 
Rather  bitter  tears  and  true 
O'er  my  Minna  will  I  spend. 


45 


THE  TRIUMPH  OF  LOVE. 

Thanks  it  is  to  holy  love 
That  the  Gods  are  blessed  above  ; 
Thanks  to  love  it  is  mankind 
Near  the  Gods  a  place  can  find. 
Heaven  becomes  more  heavenly  still, 
Earth  acquires  a  heavenly  thrill. 

Near  Pyrrha  in  the  days  of  yore 

(So  all  the  poets  sang) 

From  crags  and  stones  the  world  did  soar, 

Man  from  the  bed-rock  sprang. 

Their  hearts  were  formed  of  rock  and  stone> 
Their  souls  were  dark  as  night, 
For  on  them  never  yet  had  shone 
The  heavenly  torch  of  light. 

Not  yet  they  knew  the  rosy  chain 
With  which  the  Loves  delight  to  rein 
Souls  in  ethereal  rings  ; 
Not  yet  their  bosoms  had  been  stirred 
By  the  harmonious  murmur  heard 
When  Muses  touch  the  strings. 

Their  brows  no  chaplets  then  caressed. 
No  wreaths  their  temples  wound  ; 
Sadly  the  Spring-times  onward  pressed. 
To  bright  Elysium  bound. 

46 


THE  TRIUMPH  OF  LOVE. 

TJngreeted  then  Aurora  rose 
From  the  illumined  main, 
And,  unsaluted,  its  repose 
The  setting  sun  would  gain. 

untaught,  man  wandered  in  the  grove, 
And,  bound  in  yoke  of  iron,  strove 
'Neath  Luna's  sickly  rays. 
-None  hankered  for  the  starry  spheres, 
And  no  relief  was  sought  in  tears. 
None  yearned  the  Gods  to  praise. 

But,  from  the  deep  which  tranquil  lies. 
See  Heaven's  very  daughter  rise, 
And  carried  by  the  gentle  hand 
Of  Naiads  to  th'  ecstatic  strand  ! 

The  atmosphere  of  merry  May 
Sweeps  by,  as  floats  the  dawning  ray. 
And  hails  that  glorious  creature's  birth 
In  air  and  ocean,  heaven  and  earth. 

The  sparkling  glance  of  day  invades 
And  smiles  into  the  forest  glades  ; 
Narcissus,  delicate  and  sweet. 
Blooms  languorous  beneath  her  feet. 

The  nightingale  attunes  his  note 
A  tale  of  love  to  sing, 
And  love-inspiring  murmurs  float 
From  yonder  babbling  spring. 

Pygmalion,  how  happy  thou 
With  life  the  marble  to  endow ! 
Victorious  God  of  love,  draw  near, 
Embrace  thy  pious  children  here  ! 

47 


THE  TRIUMPH  OF  LOVE.. 

Thanks  it  is  to  holy  Love 
That  the  Gods  are  blessed  above  ; 
Thanks  to  Love  it  is  mankind 
Near  the  Gods  a  place  can  find. 
Heaven  becomes  more  heavenly  still,, 
Earth  acquires  a  heavenly  thrill. 

Quaffing  nectar's  golden  stream, 
Nursing  some  voluptuous  dream. 
Feasting  in  convivial  joy — 
Thus  the  Gods  their  days  employ- 
All  Olympus  trembles,  prone. 
When  from  his  exalted  throne 
Cronos'  son  the  lightning  hurls,, 
Tossing  wild  his  awful  curls. 

Yet  he  left  his  throne  above, 
'Midst  the  sons  of  earth  to  move. 
And  in  worldly  thickets  wept ; 
The  thunders  coiled  betwixt  his  feet,. 
And,  coaxed  by  Leda's  kisses  sweet,. 
The  Giant-killer  slept. 

Phoebus  his  majestic  team 

Where  the  day's  broad  flashes  gleam^ 

Drives  with  golden  rein. 

His  rattling  harness  spreads  affright, 

His  flaming,  heaven-born  steeds  are  white. 

Yet  all  this  clattering  train 

Gladly  would  he  cast  aside, 

Harmony  and  Love  his  guide. 

Before  the  Lord  of  Heaven's  Queen 
The  very  Gods  abase  their  mien  ; 

48 


THE  TRIUMPH  OF  LOVE. 

Before  her  chariot's  proud  array 
The  peacock  pair  their  plumes  display, 
And  with  a  victor's  crown  compare  ' 

The  glories  of  her  fragrant  hair. 

Fair  Princess  !  trembles  even  Love 
As  he  approaches  the  alcove 
Wherein  thy  glory  shines. 
And  yet  the  Queen  will  leave  her  throne 
And  humbly  beg  th'  entrancing  zone 
Which  heart  with  heart  entwines- 


Thanks  it  is  to  holy  Love 
That  the  Gods  are  blessed  above  ; 
Thanks  to  Love  it  is  mankind 
Near  the  Gods  a  place  can  find. 
Heaven  becomes  more  heavenly  still, 
Earth  acquires  a  heavenly  thrill. 

Love  drives  the  powers  of  night  away, 

And  even  Orcus  must  obey 

His  sweet  and  magic  spell. 

The  dismal  king  his  wrath  conceals 

When  his  Proserpina  appeals — 

Night's  terrors  love  can  quell. 

In  hell  thy  heavenly  Thracian  strains 
Around  the  gaoler  wove  their  chains. 
Minos  himself  with  softened  eyes 
A  milder  torment  did  devise  ; 
In  dark  Megaera's  angry  hair 
Less  icy  was  the  viper's  stare. 
49 


THE  TRIUMPH  OF  LOVE. 

Whips  cracked  no  more,  and  Orpheus'  lyre 

Coaxed  Tityus'  vulture  to  retire  ; 

Dark  Lethe  and  Cocytus  dim 

Swished  gentler  past  with  flowing  brim, 

Listening  as  they  rolled  along, 

Thracian,  to  thy  love-lorn  song  ! 

Thanks  it  is  to  holy  Love 
That  the  Gods  are  blessed  above ; 
Thanks  to  Love  it  is  mankind 
Near  the  Gods  a  place  can  find. 
Heaven  becomes  more  heavenly  still, 
Earth  acquires  a  heavenly  thrill. 

Wherever  Nature  holds  her  sway 

Love's  fragrant  blooms  their  trace  betray, 

There  float  her  pinions  still. 

Ah  !  But  that  Aphrodite's  glance 
Now  beckons  through  yon  moon-beam  dance, 
Now  from  the  sun-capped  hill  ; 
Did  not  the  smiling  Goddess  bend 
From  starry  heights  support  to  lend  ; 
Nor  sun  nor  moon  nor  starry  light 
My  cautious  spirit  could  excite. 
Smiling  love  alone  can  lie 
Mirrored,  Nature,  in  thine  eye. 

Love  inspires  the  silver  rills. 

Bids  them  purl  with  more  restraint, 

And  a  very  soul  instils 

In  the  nightingale's  complaint. 

'Tis  Love,  and  ever  Love,  who  plays 

On  Nature's  lute  in  Nature's  praise. 

50 


THE  TRIUMPH  OF  LOVE. 

Wisdom,  even  thou  must  yield 
Wiien  my  Goddess  takes  the  field, 
Conquering  even  thee  ! 
Though  victor  never  yet  has  seen, 
Nor  potentate,  thy  suppliant  mien. 
To  Love  now  bend  the  knee. 

Who  taught  thee  the  sublime  ascent 
Up  to  the  starry  firmament 
Where  sit  the  Gods  in  state  ? 
Who  tore  the  sacred  veil  away 
And  showed  thee  where  Elysium  lay 
Beyond  Death's  narrow  gate  ? 

Should  Love  her  guiding  charm  deny, 
Where  were  our  immortality  ? 
And  could  our  senses  seek  and  find. 
Without  her  aid,  the  master-mind  ? 
Love  can  lead — and  only  Love — 
Souls  to  Nature's  home  above. 

Thanks  it  is  to  holy  Love 
That  the  Gods  are  blessed  above  ; 
Thanks  to  Love  it  is  mankind 
Near  the  Gods  a  place  can  find. 
Heaven  becomes  more  heavenly  still, 
Earth  acquires  a  heavenly  thrill. 


51  E2 


FORTUNE  AND  WISDOM 

At  variance  with  a  former  friend, 
Fortune  to  Wisdom  turned,  and  said  : — 
*'  My  all  on  thee  I  will  expend 
So  thou  become  my  friend  instead  ! 

**  All  that  I  had,  my  very  best, 
I  gave  him  without  more  ado  ; 
Yet  e'er  he  has  some  new  request. 
And  calls  me  avaricious  too. 

"Come,  Sister,  let  us  friendship  swear; 
No  longer  slave  at  yonder  plough  ; 
With  thee  my  fortune  let  me  share, 
Here  is  enough  for  both,  I  trow." 

At  this  Dame  Wisdom  made  reply, 
Wiping  her  forehead  as  she  smiled  : — ■ 
*'  By  his  own  hand  thy  friend  may  die  : 
I  need  thee  not — Get  reconciled," 


52 


THE  DIGNITY  OF  MANHOOD. 


I  am  a  Man  !     Who  more  than  I  ? 
If  any,  let  him  spring 
Into  the  light  of  God's  free  sky, 
And  frisk  his  best  and  sing. 

God's  own  presentment  I  can  claim, 
And  can  the  die  display  ; 
The  bourn  from  which  the  heavens  came 
I  know,  nor  fear  the  way. 

And  well  that  I  both  dare  and  can  : 
Let  but  a  maiden  pass, 
My  spirit  cries  : — Thou  art  a  Man  ! 
And  so  I  kiss  the  lass. 

A  blush  comes  o'er  the  maiden  fair, 
Her  bodice  grows  too  tight ; 
I  am  a  Man,  she  is  aware — 
That's  why  her  dress  is  tight. 

How  does  she  scream  for  grace  if  I 
Surprise  her  deshabille  ! 
1  am  a  Man  !     Why  did  she  cry  ? 
She  wishes  me  no  ill. 
53 


THE  DIGNITY  OF  MANHOOD. 

I  am  a  Man  !     It  is  enough, 
And  in  that  name  I  dare 
A  Kaiser's  daughter  to  rebuff, 
Despite  the  rags  I  wear. 

Princesses  at  this  golden  spell 

Their  charms  to  me  unfold  : 

Dost  hear  them  call  ? — Ha,  mark  it  well, 

Ye  varlets  clad  in  gold  ! 

I  am  a  Man  !     That  ye  may  know 
When  I  my  lyre  install  ; 
With  triumph  tones  it  seems  to  glow. 
Else  would  it  only  crawl. 

From  out  this  same  creative  fount 
In  which  we  men  have  birth. 
Powers  divine  and  genius  mount — 
All  that  is  great  on  earth. 

Tyrants  my  talisman  abhors, 
And  spurns  beneath  its  tread  ; 
Or,  failing  that,  as  guide  explores 
The  regions  of  the  dead. 

By  Granicus  my  talisman 

Laid  the  proud  Persian  low. 

And  when  Rome  German  soil  o'erran, 

Rome's  might  could  overthrow. 

How  proud  the  Roman  looks,  since  first 
To  Africa  he  came  ! 
With  fiery  darts  his  eyeballs  burst, 
As  Hecla  belches  flame. 

54 


THE  DIGNITY  OF  MANHOOD. 

Then  comes  a  knave  of  jolly  mien, 
And  to  the  world  he  cries  : — 
*'  Proclaim  that  ye  have  Marius  seen 
Where  Carthage  ruined  lies  !  " 

So  cries  the  Roman  in  his  pride, 
Still  mighty  in  his  fall. 
A  man  he  is,  and  nought  beside. 
Yet  domineers  o'er  all. 

His  grandsons  thereupon  began 
Their  heritage  to  drain, 
And  set  to  work,  just  as  one  man. 
To  crow  in  dulcet  strain. 

Shame  on  the  miserable  horde  ! 
Wretches  who  treat  in  jest 
Man's  lofty  rights,  man's  high  reward,. 
Great  heaven's  very  best. 

They  saunter  aimlessly  through  life 
Like  pumpkins  rudely  fraught 
As  human  heads  by  yokel's  knife, 
And  in  their  skulls  is — nought. 

As  in  retorts  a  chemist  tries 
An  alcoholic  wine. 
Their  spirit  to  the  devil  flies, 
And  they  remain  supine. 

A  woman's  looks  their  soul  unman,, 
They  dread  to  meet  her  eye  ; 
And  if  they  dared— yet  never  can — 
Why,  they  had  better  die. 
55 


THE  DIGNITY  OF  MANHOOD 

And  so  an  honest  man  they  fear, 
His  fortune  gives  them  pain  ; 
Who  cannot  make  a  man,  can  ne'er 
For  man  love  entertain. 

And  so  I  hold  my  head  on  high, 
And  plume  myself,  and  sing  : — 
I  am  a  Man  !     Who  more  than  I  ! 
And  frisk  my  best  and  sing. 


S6 


TO  A  MORALIST. 

Why  check  youth's  ardour  with  thy  dull  advice, 
And  teach  that  love  is  labour  thrown  away  ? 
Thou  shiverst  there  amid  the  Winter's  ice 
And  speakst,  contemptuous,  of  Golden  May. 

Time  was  when  thou  didst  storm  the  maidens'  charms,- 
A  hero  of  the  waltzing  crowd,  forsooth — 
Carried  a  heaven-born  burden  in  thine  arms, 
And  sippedst  nectar  from  the  lips  of  youth. 

If  at  that  moment  this  terrestrial  ball 
From  its  accustomed  axis  had  been  thrown, 
'Tis  likely  thou  wouldst  ne'er  have  heard  it  fall. 
Absorbed  in  Julia's  blandishments  alone. 

Look  back,  then,  kindly  on  that  happy  state  : 
Even  Philosophy  will  falter  when 
The  ageing  pulses  in  their  course  abate  : — 
Immortals  never  yet  were  born  of  men  ! 

'Tis  well  when  wisdom,  clarified  by  years, 
Infusions  of  some  warm  young  blood  receives. 
Leave  it  to  denizens  of  higher  spheres 
T'  accomplish  that  which  mortal  ne'er  achieves. 

And  yet  my  earthly  counsellor  delights 
My  heaven-begotten  spirit  to  enchain. 
He  will  not  let  me  rise  to  Angel  heights. 
Let  me  as  man,  then,  follow  in  his  train. 


57 


THE  GRIM  COUNT  EBERHARD  OF 
WÜRTTEMBERG. 

Attend,  I  say,  all  ye  who  can  ! 
I'll  have  you  understand 
That  many  a  right  worthy  man, 
And  heroes  ever  in  the  van. 
Were  born  in  Suabia's  land. 

Edward  and  Charles  I  disregard  : 
Frederick  and  Louis — Tush  ! 
Why,  all  the  set  I  would  discard  : — 
Give  me  our  Count  of  Eberhard, 
Fierce  as  the  storm-cloud's  rush. 

And  Ulrich  too,  his  worthy  son. 
Who  loved  the  clash  of  steel ; 
By  Ulrich,  fighting  once  begun. 
No  forward  step  was  e'er  undone 
In  battle's  dread  appeal. 

The  Reutlingers  at  our  array 
Vow  vengeance  loud  and  deep, 
Keen  for  the  laurels  of  the  day  ; 
.  Right  valiantly  their  sabres  play, 

Or  from  their  girdles  peep. 

He  fell  upon  them — but  in  vain. 
And  came  bespattered  home. 
His  father  glanced  in  fierce  disdain ; 
The  youthful  warrior  fled  amain, 
And  tears  began  to  come. 

58 


THE  GRIM  COUNT  EBERHARD. 

Abide,  ye  rogues  !  he  cried,  beware  ! 
(Ashamed  and  smarting  sore) 
For  by  my  father's  beard  I  swear 
This  trifling  error  to  repair 
And  steep  in  burghers'  gore. 

And  soon  the  tumult  raged  again, 
And  men  and  horses  pressed 
To  Doffingen  with  clanging  train  : 
Scarce  could  the  youth  his  fury  chain. 
And  shouted  with  the  best. 

Passed  was  the  watchword  of  the  day — 
It  was  **  the  battle  lost."— 
Like  whirlwinds  whistled  round  the  fray, 
And  smeared  with  blood  we  forced  our  way 
Amid  the  Lancer  host. 

With  lion  rage  the  youthful  knight 
Tosses  his  gleaming  brand  ; 
Before  him  wildly  heaves  the  fight, 
Behind  him  oaths  and  groans  unite, 
Lo,  death  on  every  hand. 

Ah  !  woe  is  me,  a  sabre  slash 

Full  on  his  neck  descends. 

His  comrades  haste  to  tend  the  gash 

In  vain. — His  teeth  unconscious  gnash. 

And  his  last  breath  he  spends. 

The  victor's  onward  path  was  stayed, 
Wept  friend  and  foe  alike. 
Then  did  the  Count  his  knights  upbraid  : 
"  Like  other  men  my  son  is  made  ! 
Forward,  my  sons,  and  strike  !  " 
59 


THE  GRIM  COUNT  EBERHARD. 

With  doubled  rage  the  lances  ply, 
All  hearts  for  vengeance  thrill ; 
Heap  upon  heap  the  bodies  lie, 
Until  pell-mell  the  burghers  fly 
O'er  wood  and  dale  arfd  hill. 

Then  back  with  merry  trumpet  sound 
Into  the  camp  we  came  ; 
And  old  and  young  with  joyful  bound 
Danced,  as  the  foaming  cup  went  round. 
Our  triumph  to  proclaim. 

But  our  old  Count — ay,  what  of  him. 
Confronted  with  his  dead  ? 
Within  his  tent,  alone  and  grim. 
He  sits  and  views  with  eyelids  dim 
The  son  whose  soul  has  fled. 

And  thus  it  is  we  deeply  rue 
Our  lord,  whom  we  have  lost ; 
The  thunders  did  his  arms  endue, 
Him  as  our  country's  star  we  knew 
— Himself  a  hero-host ! 

Then,  hearken  to  me  all  who  can  ! 
I'll  have  you  understand 
That  many  a  right  worthy  man, 
And  heroes  ever  in  the  van, 
Were  born  in  Suabia's  land. 


60 


TO  JOY. 


Joy,  thou  fair  and  sparkling"  child,   w 
Heaven-born  Elysian  maid, , 
We  draw  near  with  fervour  wild 
And  thy  sanctuary  invade. 
Thine  enchantments  bind  again 
What  the  fashions  set  aside  ; 
Friends  and  brothers  men  remain 
Where  thy  gentle  pinions  glide. 

Chorus. 

Approach,  ye  myriads,  embrace  ! 

To  the  whole  world  my  kiss  shall  swell  I  •^^Obcs^a?  V^ 

Brothers,  beyond  that  starry  sphere 

There  must  a  loving  Father  dwell. 

He  who  happily  succeeds 
In  befriending  a  true  friend, 
Whom  a  worthy  woman  leads — 
Such  their  triumph-cry  may  lend ! 
So  may  he  who  but  one  soul 
As  his  very  own  can  claim  : 
He  who  can  none  such  enrol 
Let  him  quit  our  midst  in  shame ! 
6i 


TO  JOY. 

Chorus. 

By  all  dwellers  on  our  globe         v 
Sympathy  must  e'er  be  shown  ;    ^ 
Into  star-land  it  can  probe, 
Where  is  throned  the  great  Unknown., 

All  the  world  may  draughts  of  joy  c — 

From  the  breast  of  Nature  take  ; 

Good  and  ill  alike  employ 

Pains  to  trace  joy's  rosy  wake.  ^    ^ 

Kisses  gave  she  and  the  grape, 

And  the  faithful,  lifelong  friend  ; 

E'en  the  worm  its  joy  can  shape, 

Heavenward  the  cherubs  tend. 

Chorus. 
High-placed  myriads,  will  ye  fall  ? 
Dost  thou  fear  thy  Maker,  world  ? 
Seek  him  past  yon  shimmering  pall 
Where  the  starlight  is  unfurled. 

Joy  is  like  th'  eternal  springs  ^^,^^ 

Which  the  wheels  of  Nature  start,  ^^  ■ 

Driving  true  with  even  swings  \^  '^ 

In  the  world's  great  throbbing  heart. 
Joy  can  coax  the  buds  when  shy. 
Summon  suns  from  boundless  space, 
Settle  planets  in  the  sky 
Which  to  seers  have  no  place. 

Chorus. 
As  the  suns  in  glory  roll. 
Joyous,  through  the  heavenly  plane, 
Press,  my  brethren,  towards  the  goal 
Your  victorious  campaign. 
62 


TO  JOY. 

Truth  her  mirrored  rays  projects, 
Joyful,  on  th'  inquiring  mind  ; 
Joy  the  wanderer  protects 
Who  the  path  of  right  would  find. 
High  on  Faith's  illumined  hills 
Gallantly  her  banners  wave, 
And  with  angel  voice  she  trills 
*Mid  the  choirs  beyond  the  grave. 

Chorus. 

Myriads,  your  courage  raise  ! 
Suffer  for  that  higher  sphere. 
There,  beyond  the  starry  maze, 
A  rewarding  God  will  cheer. 

Who  can  e'er  the  Gods  requite  ? 
'Tis  enough  like  them  to  be. 
Grief  and  poverty  unite 
With  the  joyful  to  agree. 
Vengeance  let  us  set  aside. 
And  forgive  our  direst  foe  : 
Let  no  tears  his  conscience  chide, 
Force  him  not  remorse  to  know. 

Chorus. 

Cancelled  be  our  roll  of  crime. 
Wiped  away  be  every  grudge  ; 
God  above  those  stars  sublime 
Judges  mortals  as  they  judge. 

Joy  in  foaming  beakers  creams  : — 
Influenced  by  the  golden  vine, 
Civilized  the  savage  seems. 
Timid  hearts  with  valour  shine. 

63 


TO  JOY. 

Let  the  generous  flagon  pass  ; 
Brethren,  in  your  places  rise, 
To  good  fortune  drain  a  glass, 
Effervescing  to  the  skies  ! 

Chorus, 

Stars  salute  thee  as  they  sail, 
Seraphs  sing  thy  hymn  of  praise  ; 
To  thy  glorious  spirit,  hail, 
High  above  the  twinkling  maze  ! 

Courage  grant  to  real  woe. 
Help  where  drops  a  guiltless  tear  ; 
Constancy  on  oaths  bestow, 
Truth  let  foe  and  friend  revere  ! 
Manly  pride  before  the  throne 
Grant — no  matter  what  the  cost — 
Let  the  worthy  gain  their  own, 
Be  the  brood  of  liars  lost ! 

Chorus. 

Draw  the  circle  nearer  still. 
By  this  golden  wine  declare 
That  your  vows  ye  will  fulfil ; 
By  the  judge  of  Heaven  swear  ! 


64 


THE  INVINCIBLE  ARMADA. 


It  comes,  it  comes — the  haughty  Southern  fleet, 
(The  very  ocean  'neath  its  weight  complains) 
Bearing  a  brand-new  God,  who  has  his  seat 
'Mid  thousand  thunders  and  the  clank  of  chains. 
Of  frowning  citadels  a  floating  host, 
(Its  equal  never  stemmed  the  ocean's  tides) 
Invincible  men  call  it,  as  it  glides 
Over  the  frighted  waters  toward  the  coast. 
Terror  gives  meaning  to  the  boastful  name, 
Terror  its  mien  and  attitude  proclaim. 
Onward  in  slow  and  stately  guise  it  pressed, 
(And  Neptune  staggering  his  burden  bore) 
The  end  of  all  things  hidden  in  its  breast. 
And,  as  it  neared,  the  tempest  ceased  to  roar. 

Great-hearted  Britain,  mistress  of  the  deep. 
Before  thy  shores  the  hostile  navies  stand. 
And  threaten  with  their  countless  hosts  to  sweep 
From  end  to  end  thy  happy,  sea-girt  land  ! 
Woe  to  thy  free-born  race  !     A  thunder  cloud, 
Pregnant  with  ill,  hangs  o'er  it  like  a  shroud. 

Who  was  it  that  this  priceless  treasure  gained. 
And  made  thee  Queen  of  all  the  nations  round  ? 
It  was  thyself,  by  tyrant  kings  constrained. 
Who  that  supremest  law  of  empire  found — 
65  F 


THE  INVINCIBLE  ARMADA. 

That  glorious  charter,  which  thy  princes  brings 

Down  to  the  ranks,  lifts  citizens  to  kings. 

A  million  foes  thine  undisputed  might 

At  sea  has  vanquished  in  unequal  fight. 

Let  neighbouring  peoples  own  with  one  accord 

Thy  spirit  wrought  it  and  thy  trusty  sword  ! 

Unhappy  land  !     Before  these  ponderous  keels 
With  thunders  charged,  thine  ancient  glory  reels  ; 
The  very  earth  stands  gazing  with  affright, 
And  all  free  hearts  beat  faster  at  the  sight, 
And  noble  souls  await  with  sorrowing  shame 
Th'  impending  ruin  of  thine  ancient  fame. 

But  God  almighty,  watching  from  on  high, 
Saw  thy  foe's  lion-blazoned  ensigns  wave. 
**  Shall  I,"  said  He,  "  commit  without  a  sigh 
Mine  own  dear  Albion  to  a  certain  grave, 
Witness  the  fall  of  this  heroic  stock 
Which  stems  oppression  like  a  wall  of  rock, 
Suffer  extinction  from  this  rolling  sphere 
Of  the  one  dam  'gainst  Tyranny's  career  ?  " 
"  Never,"  He  cried,  ''  this  cradle  of  the  Free, 
This  home  of  manly  valour  shall  go  down  !  " 
Th'  Almighty  breathed,  and  over  every  sea, 
To  every  wind  the  Armada's  might  was  strown.^ 

1  The  last  two  lines  refer  to  the  medal  which  Queen  Elizabeth 
caused  to  be  struck  in  commemoration  of  her  victory.  It  repre- 
sents a  fleet  foundering  in  a  storm,  and  bears  the  inscription, 
Aßavit  Deus,  et  dissipati  sunt. 


66 


THE  CONFLICT. 


Th'unequal  strife  no  longer  will  I  wage, 
Which  but  for  Duty  I  had  never  fought ; 
Unless  thou  canst  my  soul's  desire  assuage, 
Virtue,  this  sacrifice  may  not  be  sought. 

And  I  have  sworn,  no  matter  what  the  cost. 
To  subjugate  my  wishes  to  my  will ! 
Here,  take  thy  garland,  which  on  me  were  lost  ; 
Take  it  back.  Virtue  ;  let  me  sin  my  fill. 

Ye  resolutions  of  the  past,  away  ! 
She  loves  me — forfeited  thy  garland  lies. 
Happy  the  man  who,  frivolous  and  gay. 
Can  fall,  like  me,  so  deep  with  careless  eyes. 

She  sees  my  youth  pale  'neath  the  canker's  taint, 
She  notes  my  fleeting  prime  with  cold  regard. 
Marvels  in  silence  at  my  self-restraint, 
And,  generous,  determines  my  reward. 

Mistrust,  dear  Soul,  this  more  than  angel  grace  ! 
Thy  pity  does  but  harden  me  to  crime. 
Is  there  in  life's  immeasurable  space. 
Like  thee,  another  recompense  sublime  ? 

Is  there  a  crime  so  tempting  as  the  sin 
I  ever  seek  to  fly  ? — Ah  !  fate  severe  ! 
For  could  my  virtue  any  credit  win. 
In  winning,  'twould  for  ever  disappear. 


67  F  2 


RESIGNATION. 


I  too  was  in  Arcadia  born, 

And  Nature,  watching  o'er  my  bed, . 

To  grant  me  happiness  had  sworn  ; 

Yes,  I  was  in  Arcadia  born, 

Yet  tears  throughout  my  youth  were  shed. 

Youth  blossoms  once,  but  never  more  ; 
And  mine  has  ripened  to  decay. 
The  silent  God  (whose  aid  implore) 
My  lamp  of  life  has  shrouded  o'er, 
And  my  illusion  melts  away. 

Upon  thy  dismal  border  line, 
Dreaded  Eternity,  I  stand  ; 
Thy  fair  credentials  I  resign 
Inviolate  ;  behold  them  thine  ; 
No  happiness  can  I  command. 

Before  thy  throne  I  pour  my  wail. 
Mysterious  arbitress  unseen  ; 
In  yonder  star,  so  goes  the  tale. 
Thou  rulest  o'er  the  judgment  scale. 
Known  as  a  true  avenging  queen 
68 


RESIGNATION. 

Here  terrors  on  the  evil  glare, 

They  say,  while  joys  on  virtue  rain  ; 

The  crooked  heart  thou  vi^illst  lay  bare, 

Divine  obscurities  declare. 

And  sympathise  with  those  in  pain. 

Here  be  the  exile's  open  door. 
Here  end  the  sufferer's  life  of  need. 
Now  truth  itself,  of  heaven  born, 
By  many  shunned,  by  some  forsworn, 
Bridled  my  life's  impetuous  speed. 

*'  Futurity  shall  recompense — 
Thy  youthful  Present  let  me  have  : 
No  further  orders  I  dispense." 
— I  yielded  to  her  influence. 
And  all  my  youthful  pleasures  gave. 

**  Give  me  the  darling  of  thy  heart, 
Thy  very  Laura  must  be  mine  ! 
Beyond  the  grave  assuage  the  smart." 
— I  tore  her  from  my  bleeding  heart. 
And  weeping  laid  her  on  the  shrine. 

**  Does  abnegation  move  the  dead?" 
The  world  with  mocking  laughter  cried. 
*' A  lying  tongue  by  tyrants  sped. 
With  visions  false  thy  path  has  spread  ; 
The  vision  past,  canst  thou  abide  ?  " 

Then  giggled  the  insidious  throng  : — 

**  A  vision,  which  on  law  relies, 

Dost  fear  ?     What  of  thy  Gods  so  strong, 

Whose  skill  shall  cure  the  world  of  wrong,. 

Who  human  needs  with  craft  disguise  ?  " 

69 


RESIGNATION. 

**Thy  Future  has  the  grave  revealed? 
Eternity y  which  thou  dost  boast 
Only  because  it  lies  concealed, 
In  conscience'  mirror  has  appealed 
To  us  like  some  portentous  ghost." 

*'  Life-like  in  form,  but  yet  a  cheat 

— A  mummy  to  deceive  the  eye — 

The  hopeful  days  of  pleasure  sweet 

To  the  cold  mounded  grave  retreat  ' 

— And  this  is  Immortality  ?  " 

**  Hast  thou — nay,  let  such  falsehoods  cease- 
For  hope  exchanged  thy  present  hoard  ? 
Six  thousand  years  Death  held  its  peace, 
Did  ever  corpse  demand  release 
To  bring  thee  the  Avenger's  word  ?  " 

I  saw  Time's  pinions  climb  thy  shore 
While  blooming  Nature  lagged  behind ; 
A  corpse-like  form  her  aspect  wore. 
The  dead  to  quit  their  graves  forbore, 
The  godly  promise  I  divined. 

To  thee  I  sacrificed  my  joy. 
And  here  before  thy  throne  I  bow. 
No  mocking  herd  can  now  annoy, 
Thy  bounties  all  my  thoughts  employ  ; 
Avenger,  my  reward  allow  ! 

**  Alike  I  love  my  children,"  cries 
Aloud  a  genius  hid  from  sight. 
**Two  flowers,  mark  it,  are  the  prize 
Of  the  investigator  wise  : 
— Their  names — Hope  and  Delight. 
70 


RESIGNATION. 

**  Who  plucks  the  one  must  not  profane 
With  impious  grasp  the  sister  bloom. 
Believing  nought,  for  pleasure  strain  ; 
Believing,  dogma  says — abstain  ! 
The  world's  own  annals  are  its  doom. 

**Thou  hopedst  :  here,  then,  thy  reward  j 
Thy  faith  thy  fortunes  did  impress. 
Wise  counsellors  thou  didst  discard  ; 
Do  but  one  minute  disregard, 
Eternity  gives  no  redress." 


71 


THE  GODS  OF  GREECE. 

What  time  the  happy  world  was  guided, 

Ye  Gods,  by  your  indulgent  hand, 
When  over  happy  men  presided 

Fair  beings  born  of  Fable-land, 
Ah  !  what  another  age  existed 

When  your  mysterious  rites  were  paid. 
When  garlands  for  thy  shrines  were  twisted, 

Venus,  enchanting  Cyprian  maid. 

When  luminous  imagination 

Wrapped  Truth  in  Fiction's  airy  fold. 
Then  life's  blood  flowed  throughout  creation, 

And,  wavelike,  o'er  its  limits  rolled. 
In  nature  then  a  nobler  merit 

Man  recognised  with  grateful  love. 
And  all  things  felt  the  hallowed  spirit. 

Whose  charm  betrayed  the  Gods  above. 

Where  now,  if  we  shall  trust  the  sages. 

Insensate  whirls  an  orb  of  fire. 
There  Helios  in  far-off  ages, 

Majestic,  drove  his  golden  tire. 
Nymphs  sported  in  these  mountain  passes, 

A  Dryad  dwelt  in  yonder  tree, 
While  winsome  naiads  from  their  vases 

The  silver-twinkling  burns  set  free. 
72 


THE  GODS  OF  GREECE. 

Good  service  wrought  these  laurel  bushes, 

Sleeps  Niobe  in  yonder  stone, 
Sad  Syrinx  wails  amid  those  rushes, 

This  grove  hears  Philomela's  moan. 
When  her  Persephone  was  ravished 

This  brook  received  Demeter's  tears, 
And  here  Cythera  vainly  lavished 

Her  suasion  on  unheeding  ears. 

The  Gods  themselves  their  homage  yielded 

To  daughters  sprung  of  Pyrrha's  race, 
And  for  their  sakes  Hyperion  wielded 

The  shepherd's  crook  with  lowly  grace. 
For  then  were  Heroes,  Gods,  and  Mortals 

United  in  the  bond  of  love  ; 
Equal  in  Amathusian  portals. 

Men  bowed  with  those  who  rule  above. 

All  sceptic  gloom  and  dulness  vanished 

Where  your  inspiring  cult  was  known  ; 
Untuneful  souls  were  rightly  banished. 

And  glad  contentment  ruled  alone. 
Then  Beauty  for  itself  was  treasured  ; 

No  need  your  godlike  joys  to  rein 
While  blushing  Nymphs  and  graces  measured 

The  limits  of  your  happy  chain. 

Your  shrines  were  decked  in  gayest  dressing, 

The  Heroes  in  your  honour  strove. 
And  for  the  Isthmian  laurels  pressing, 

Intent,  the  thundering  chariots  drove. 
The  changing  dance  in  bright  procession 

Before  your  glowing  altars  wound. 
And  triumph-crowns  with  light  oppression 

Your  free  and  fragrant  tresses  bound. 

73 


THE  GODS  OF  GREECE. 

The  thyrsus-bearers'  cries  are  pealing, 

The  leopards  in  their  harness  strain, 
And  Fauns  and  Satyrs  gaily  reeling, 

Herald  the  jolly  Bacchus'  train. 
Half-frenzied  Maenads  wildly  crying, 

The  glories  of  the  wine-cup  boast 
In  words  and  action,  ever  plying         , 

With  fuller  bowls  their  willing  host. 

No  grisly  spectre  dared  to  sadden 

The  parting  mortal  at  his  death. 
For  angel-guards  were  there  to  gladden, 

Then  quenched  the  flame  with  loving  breath, 
Necessity  by  airy  visions 

Was  measured  on  a  kinder  scale. 
And  even  Destiny's  decisions 

Seemed  milder  through  a  human  veil. 

The  friends  of  yore  were  re-united 

On  still  Elysium's  shadowy  plain  ; 
True  lover's  vows  afresh  are  plighted. 

The  victor's  team  careers  again. 
Once  more  the  wail  of  Linus  rises, 

Her  spouse  reviews  Alceste's  charmSj 
His  friend  Orestes  recognises, 

And  Philoctetes  finds  his  arms. 

With  worthier  prize  was  he  commended 

Who  trod  the  stony  path  of  right, 
And  Heroes,  when  their  course  was  ended, 

Shared  with  the  blest  eternal  light. 
The  Gods  with  silent  acquiescence 

Beheld  the  summoned  dead  depart  ; 
On  high  the  great  Twin  brethren's  presence 

Gave  courage  to  the  pilot's  heart. 
74 


THE  GODS  OF  GREECE. 

Farewell  !  Thou  happy  world,  whose  graces 

Attested  nature's  earliest  Spring  ; 
Now  can  we  only  seek  thy  traces 

As  fable  tells  and  fairies  sing. 
Alas  !  the  happy  scene  has  vanished, 

Before  me  yawns  an  empty  frame  ; 
The  godhead,  from  the  picture  banished, 

Leaves  but  a  shade,  a  thought,  a  name. 
Those  buds  have  all  untimely  perished. 

Before  the  scathing  Northern  blast. 
Farewell,  ye  Gods,  so  dearly  cherished  ; 

Ye  pass  away  that  One  may  last. 
In  vain  I  seek  with  sad  devotion 

Selene  in  the  starry  dome  ; 
The  woods  reply  not,  and  the  ocean, 
— Unheednrg;  Lhurrts  Ih^  eleinalforain; — 

Blind  to  the  joy  which  she  dispenses, 
And  careless  of  her  own  great  name, 

Unconscious  that  my  yearning  senses 
Demand  her  all-inspiring  flame  ; 

Whose  pulse  no  longer  Art  can  waken, 
Blank  as  the  stroke  which  marks  the  hour, 

Nature  herself,  by  God  forsaken. 
B-Qws,  slavish,  to  a  soqlless..pawer.i 

Behold  !  to-day  her  grave  she  hollows, 

To-morrow  sees  her  rise  anew  ; 
Month  upon  month  serenely  follows. 

The  days  march  on  in  order  due. 
The  Gods  depart,  in  sorrowing  token 

That  happy  childhood  is  out-grown  ; 
The  leading  strings  at  length  are  broken, 

The  ungrateful  world  can  soar  alone. 
^  /.<?.,  the  power  of  gravitation. 

75 


THE  GODS  OF  GREECE. 

All  lovely  form  with  them  was  taken 

To  grace  the  home  whence  erst  they  came 
So  was  the  world  by  Art  forsaken, 

And  Beauty  left  us  but  her  name. 
The  Gods  on  Pindus'  heights  find  leisure, 

Untroubled  by  the  tide  of  time  ; 
And  Fancy,  crushed  by  life's  stern' pressure, 

Lives  but  in  Poetry  sublime. 


76 


f 


A  CELEBRATED  WOMAN. 

Shall  I  condole,  my  friend? — Dost  rue 
With  curses  deep  thy  marriage  bond  ? 
And  why  ? — Because  thy  spouse  untrue 
Has  found  in  other  arms  more  fond 
That  which  in  thine  was  not  her  share? 
Hear  others'  woes  ere  thou  despond, 
And  learn  thy  lighter  grief  to  bear. 

Dost  grumble  that  in  thy  domains 
Another  shares  ? — Why,  lucky  man, 
My  wife  to  the  whole  human  race  pertains. 
Right  from  the  Belt  to  the  Moselle, 
To  Apennine's  abysses  fell, 
Where  fashions  their  precedence  keep  ; 
In  every  booth  she's  offered  cheap  ; 
In  diligences,  on  the  deep, 
She  must  the  curious  muster  pass 
Of  every  pedant,  every  ass. 
And  brave  the  cad's  censorious  glass  ; 
And,  as  some  petty  critic  may  control, 
On  flowers  trips  or  treads  on  burning  coal 
— Pantheon,  or  the  pillory,  her  goal. 
A  Leipzig  man — God  grant  he  have  his  due — 
Took  her  dimensions,  offered  her  for  sale 
In  fragments  to  the  public  by  retail — 
Fragments  which  I — but,  sure,  none  other — knew. 
77 


A  CELEBRATED  WOMAN. 

Thy  wife,  thanks  to  the  canon,  is  aware 
That  'tis  an  honour  thy  good  name  to  bear  ; 
She  understands,  and  her  good  sense  is  shown» 
(As  ''  Ninon's  husband"  only  I  am  known) 
You  say  that  at  the  tables,  in  the  pit, 
Your  entry  rouses  each  malicious  ^it ; 
Fortunate  man,  the  world  might  envy  thee 
Such  luck  as  that. — Why,  brother,  as  for  me — 
A  whey-cure  had  the  fortune  to  provide 
An  honoured  place  for  me  at  her  left  side. 
On  me  no  kind  of  interest  is  spent. 
While  on  my  better  half  all  eyes  are  bent. 

The  dawn  scarce  shows  its  crest, 

When  the  stairs  creak  'neath  blue  and  yellow  coats, 

With  unstamped  letters,  packages  and  notes. 

To  "  the  Illustrious  lady"  all  addressed. 

I  must  arouse  her,  calmly  though  she  lies  : — 

**  Madam,  the  papers — Berlin,  Jena  news  !  " 

At  once  the  lovely  sleeper  raised  her  eyes. 

And  pounced  with  eager  glance  on  the  reviews^ 

The  fair  blue  eye — never  a  look  for  me  — 

Skims  through  some  stupid  puerility — 

(Screams  in  the  children's  nursery  she  hears) 

Pausing,  she  asks,  how  are  the  little  dears  ? 

And  now  her  toilet  waits. 

But  side-looks  only  at  the  glass  she  flings, 

And  mutters  sullen,  discontented  threats 

Which  give  her  terrified  attendant  wings. 

The  Graces  from  her  dressing-table  fly, 

And  where  fair  Cupids  should  their  office  ply, 

A  band  of  Furies  in  attendance  springs. 

78 


A  CELEBRATED  WOMAN. 

Anon  the  carriage-folk  approach, 

And  lackeys  spring  from  every  coach. 

The  perfumed  abbot,  the  seigneurial  lord, 

The  Briton  (who  the  German  tongue  ignored), 

Gossing  &  Co.,  the  Messrs.  Thingumbob, 

— All  wish  with  the  great  lady  to  hob-nob. 

With  what  a  supercilious  eye  they  stare 

To  see  a  thitig — a  husband — crouching  there  ! 

Here  may  the  dullest  flat,  the  seediest  wight, 

{Dare  your  wife's  friend  as  much  ?)  express  delight, 

And  as  admirers  of  the  fair  one  pose  ; 

And  this,  withal,  before  my  very  nose. 

I  must  look  on,  and,  merely  to  behave, 

His  precious  '*  company  to  dine  "  must  crave. 

At  table,  friend,  begins  my  misery. 

Short  work  is  made  of  my  poor  cellar's  store  ; 

Burgundy  (which  the  doctor  bans  for  me) 

Down  their  approving  gullets  I  must  pour. 

My  hard-earned  daily  bread  I  must  subscribe 

To  stuff  this  greedy,  parasitic  tribe. 

This  immortality — confound  its  ways  ! — 

With  my  good  Niersteiner  havoc  plays. 

Away  with  all  who  use  the  printing  press  ! 

And  what  my  meed  of  thanks  ?     I  bid  thee  guess — 

A  shrug,  a  gesture,  some  unmannered  bluff — 

Dost  understand  ? — Oh,  I  see  plain  enough  ! 

Who  such  a  woman — such  a  priceless  gem — 

To  live  with  such  a  noodle  would  condemn  ? 

Spring-time  approaches,  and  fair  Nature  flings 
Her  varied  tapestry  o'er  glade  and  field  ; 
A  kindly  green  the  shrubs  and  flowers  yield, 
Loud  trills  the  lark  ;  to  life  the  forest  springs. 
79 


A  CELEBRATED  WOMAN. 

— To  her  no  more  the  Spring  appeals  ; 
The  songstress  of  our  pleasures  gay, 
Of  groves  where  we  were  wont  to  play, 
Now  nothing  to  her  heart  reveals. 
The  nightingales  ! — they  cannot  read  ; 
The  lilies  !— they  can  not  admire  ; 
And  Nature's  triumphs,  as  they  plead. 
Do  but  an  epigram  inspire. 

To  travelling  the  time  of  year  invites  ; 
— Why,  Pyrmont  must  just  now  be  crowded  out  ; 
In  praise  of  Carlsbad  every  one  unites 
— And  there  she  is,  amid  the  motley  rout, 
Where  princely  riband,  doctor's  gown. 
With  every  kind  of  fashion  blends  ; 
Show  themselves  off,  strut  up  and  down. 
And  seem  to  be  the  best  of  friends. 
From  many  climes  they  come  with  languid  zeal, 
Their  tattered  virtue  of  its  wounds  to  heal. 
— Learn  thine  advantage,  friend  ;  there  strolls  my  wife, 
And  seven  orphans  palms  on  me  for  life  ! 


Ah  !  my  first  love — my  young  romantic  days  ! 
How  quickly  have  ye  vanished  from  the  scene  ! 
A  paragon,  beyond  all  human  praise — 
— Such  was  my  wife — a  Goddess  in  her  mien. 
Of  brilliant  wit,  expansive  mind 
She  was,  of  character  refined. 
I  gladly  bore  her  soft  control, 
And  by  her  playful  side  reclined. 
The  words — '*  I  love  thee,  thou  art  mine  ! " 
Sprang  eloquently  from  her  eyes  : 
I  led  her  to  the  sacred  shrine. 
And  who  so  happy  with  his  prize  ? 

80 


A  CELEBRATED  WOMAN. 

A  vista  of  entrancing  years 
Mirrored  before  me  seemed  to  rise, 
And  open  lay  the  very  spheres. 

I  saw  fair  children  gambol  round 
With  circling  dance  her  kindly  knee 
— The  fairest  of  the  circle  she — 
Her  heart  with  mine  in  harmony, 
Our  souls  for  ever  firmly  bound. 

And  then  appeared — oh,  cursed  be  his  name  ! 
— A  mighty  man  of  quite  superior  cast. 
This  mighty  genius  did  but  breathe  a  blast, 
And  down  my  house  of  cards  in  atoms  came. 

What  have  I  left  ? — Ah  !  transformation  fell  ! 

As  from  me  fades  th'  intoxicating  spell. 

What  of  my  angel  now  remains  ? 

A  virile  spirit,  but  arrayed 

In  sexless  form — nor  man  nor  maid. 

Not  fit  to  love,  nor  hold  the  reins  ; 

A  child  in  giant's  armour  clad, 

A  mean  betwixt  the  wise  and  mad. 

Who  has  renounced  her  native  grace 

In  coarser  scenes  to  find  a  place. 

Down  from  her  throne-like  pinnacle  of  fame 

She  falls,  and  quits  her  dear,  mysterious  home, 

Struck  out  from  Cytherea's  golden  tome,^ 

To  earn — a  sorry  newspaper  acclaim. 

1  The   "Golden  Book "— z.^.  the  Roll   of  Nobility,  as  kept  in 
the  Italian  Republics. 


8i 


LINES  WRITTEN  IN  A  YOUNG  LADY'S 
ALBUM. 

Like  a  fair  child,  with  merry  native  jest, 
My  dear  young  friend,  the  world  around  thee  plays  ; 
Yet  think  not  that  the  character  impressed 
Upon  thy  heart,  and  mirrored  in  its  rays 
Presents  the  truth. — The  silent  reverence 
Which  from  thy  soul's  nobility  has  grown, 
The  marvels  of  thine  own  omnipotence, 
The  living  grace,  essentially  thine  own, — 
These  thou  dost  count  as  life's  habitual  prize 
Promiscuously  granted  to  mankind. 
If  he  exist,  let  me  the  mortal  find 
Who  youth's  untainted  magic  can  despise, 
Or  to  the  charm  of  innocence  be  blind. 

How  dost  thou  revel  in  the  fragrant  band 
Of  flowers  which  around  thy  footsteps  press, 
Of  souls  beatified  at  thy  command. 
Which  spell-bound,  thine  ascendency  confess  ! 

Remain,  then,  happy  in  thy  fond  conceit, 
And  may  no  wakening  illusion  cheat 
The  stately  tenour  of  thy  dream's  caress. 

As  in  thy  beds  the  shining  flowers  blaze. 
Thy  fancies  plant — but  with  averted  gaze  ! 

Watch  them,  indeed,  but  never  venture  nigh  ; 
They  do  but  live  to  satisfy  the  eye. 
E'en  at  thy  feet  they  end  their  little  day  : 
— The  nearer  thee,  the  nearer  to  decay  ! 


82 


THE  ARTISTS. 


Man,  to  what  dignity  dost  thou  attain, 

Marking"  the  Century's  descending  plane 

In  all  the  glory  of  thy  prime  ; 

Of  spirit  cultivated  and  refined. 

Of  gentle  mien,  but  of  determined  mind, 

The  ripest  son  thou  art  of  Time  ; 

Of  large  discretion,  yet  by  rule  impressed, 

In  meekness  strong,  and  of  a  prize  possessed 

Of  which  thy  conscience  long  was  unaware ; 

Lord  of  fair  Nature,  who  thy  chains  adores, 

Who  in  a  thousand  tests  thy  strength  explores, 

And  quits  the  wilderness  thy  fate  to  share  ! 

Intoxicated  by  the  triumph  gained. 
Do  not  forget  to  thank  the  kindly  hand 
Which  found  thee  orphaned,  wandering  at  large 
In  tears  along  life's  solitary  marge, 
Found  thee  a  veritable  toy  of  chance, 
But  breathed  upon  thee  Arts'  divine  romance, 
And  silently  thy  youthful  heart  inspired ; 
Taught  thee  to  bind  in  a  controlling  chain 
Passions  which  might  thy  tender  conscience  stain, 
With  easy  touch  the  highest  virtues  taught. 
Showed  that  sublime  perfection  might  be  sought 
In  simple  parables  and  there  acquired. 

83  G2 


THE  ARTISTS. 

That  hand  remember  which,  on  teaching-  bent, 
Its  darling  to  the  hands  of  strangers  lent ; 
Ah  !  to  the  mistress,  Art,  be  ever  true, 
And  never  stoop  her  waiting-maid^  to  woo  ! 
The  bee  for  dihgence  the  palm  may  bear, 
The  worm  can  teach  thee  aptitude  and  zeal. 
Thy  learning  with  the  spirits  thou  mayst  share. 
But  Art,  Oh  Man,  can  but  to  thee  appeal. 

Through  beauty's  morning  gate  thou  foundest  place. 
In  lands  where  knowledge  holds  her  sturdy  sway, 
And  Wisdom  dons  the  attributes  of  grace 
And  learns  to  pose  in  delicate  array. 
The  stirring  spirit  of  the  Muses'  lyre 
Which  all  thy  chords  with  sweet  emotion  thrilled 
Woke  in  thy  slumbering  heart  the  natural  fire 
And  knowledge  of  the  universe  instilled. 

That  which  deliberate  Reason  understood 

When  whole  millenniums  had  passed  away, 

A  symbol  of  the  beautiful  and  good 

To  infant  faculties  discovered  lay. 

Its  fair  presentment  bade  us  love  the  right, 

Its  gentle  image  battled  against  crime. 

Ere  ever  Solon  did  his  laws  indite, 

Slowly  to  ripen  in  the  lap  of  time. 

Before  philosophers  had  learned  to  peer 

Into  the  wonders  of  eternal  space. 

Did  any  gaze  upon  the  starry  sphere 

And  not  in  awe  his  boldest  thoughts  abase  ? 

Urania  in  her  tremendous  state 

Wearing  Orion's  glories  on  her  brow, 

Visible  only  to  the  good  and  great 

— Pure  spirits,  who  her  majesty  avow — 

84 


THE  ARTISTS. 

Urania  sweeps  above  the  starry  spheres^ 
And,  with  her  flaming  chaplet  laid  aside, 
Upon  her  sun-illumined  throne  appears 
— Beauty  personified — our  light  and  guide.. 
With  every  attribute  of  grace  endued, 
Her  child-like  innocence  appeals  to  youth, 
And  that  which  is  to-day  as  Beauty  viewed 
Anon  will  prove  to  be  the  very  Truth. 

When  the  Creator  banished  from  His  sight 
Poor  man,  and  immortality  denied. 
And  bade  him  struggle  back  as  best  he  might 
With  laboured  mental  effort  to  his  side. 
When  all  the  gods  had  turned  away  in  scorn, 
She  to  his  aid  with  impulse  warm  repaired, 
And  with  the  exiled  fugitive  forlorn 
His  mortal  troubles  generously  shared. 
Here  upon  tranquil  pinion  she  sways 
About  her  darling,  where  the  Senses  dwell,, 
And  with  affectionate  deceit  portrays 
Elysium  upon  his  prison  cell. 

What  time,  supported  in  that  soft  embrace,, 
Tender  Humanity  such  nursing  knew. 
No  murder  legalised  could  show  its  face, 
No  guiltless  blood  the  smoking  soil  imbrue. 
The  heart  which  she  in  gentle  fetters  guides. 
The  slavish  leading-strings  of  duty  spurns  ; 
The  twinkling  of  her  sinuous  path  subsides 
Where'er  Morality's  effulgence  burns. 
Those  who  to  her  their  modest  service  yield, 
No  meanness  recognise,  no  perils  fear ; 
With  power  from  above  their  hearts  are  steeled- 
Before  them  lies  the  Spirit-world  revealed. 
In  all  the  freedom  which  they  hold  so  dear, 

85 


THE  ARTISTS. 

Most  fortunate  of  all  the  myriads  those 

— And  purest — who  her  loving  cult  maintain, 

Whose  lips  the  mighty  Being's  thoughts  disclose, 

Within  whose  bosom  she  elects  \o  reign  ; 

Who  tend  her  altars,  and  by  her  desire 

Cherish  the  inextinguishable  fire  ; 

Unveiled  she  stands  before  their  favoured  eyes. 

And  draws  them  to  her  with  bewitching  ties  ! 

Rejoice,  then,  in  the  honourable  state 

To  which  by  lofty  rule  ye  are  ordained. 

The  glories  of  the  Spirit-world  attained. 

The  highest  posts  humanity  await ! 

Before  proportion  to  the  world  ye  brought 

— Proportion,  which  all  essences  obey — 

A  shapeless  building  stood  with  darkness  fraught. 

Illumined  only  by  a  feeble  ray  ; 

The  tumult  of  a  visionary  host. 

Bound  all  the  senses  in  a  captive  chain. 

And  in  its  turn,  to  gentle  manners  lost, 

The  foe  a  thousand  various  missiles  hurled, 

— Thus  to  the  savage  was  portrayed  the  world. 

Only  by  undiscerning  passions  bound 

To  the  phenomena  which  crowded  round. 

He  failed  the  soul  of  Nature  to  descry, 

And  let  her  pass  unmarked,  untasted  by. 

Yet  as  on  fluttering  wings  away  she  fled. 
Ye  strained  after  the  vision's  friendly  Shade 
With  tender  hope  and  reverential  hand, 
And  learned  that  o'er  that  blithe,  harmonious  band 
The  toils  of  fellowship  were  lightly  shed. 
And  more  ethereal  became  your  glance. 
Marking  the  pliant  cedar's  lofty  crest 

86 


THE  ARTISTS. 

Lovingly  pictured  on  fair  Ocean's  breast, 
And  shimmering"  as  the  crystal  ripples  dance. 
How  could  ye  fail  those  lessons  to  descry 
Which  Nature  in  such  friendly  measure  gave  ? 
For  she  bade  Art  with  her  own  image  vie, 
Learning  from  that  reflection  on  the  wave  ; 
From  her  own  being  sundered,  of  free  will 
Her  fairy  form  she  cast  upon  the  stream 
Mirrored  upon  its  dancing  silver  gleam. 
And  yielded  to  the  imitator's  skill. 
So  the  fair  craft  within  thy  breast  awoke. 
The  sacred  image  which  thou  hads't  conceived 
In  sand,  in  plastic  clay  thou  didst  invoke, 
And  Art's  sublime  existence  was  achieved. 
The  charm  of  labour  did  your  soul  arrest. 
The  first  creation  harboured  in  thy  breast. 

Beneath  your  constant  observation  held. 
And  ever  marked  by  your  all-curious  eye. 
Those  gentle  visions  found  themselves  impelled 
To  yield  the  talisman  for  which  ye  sigh. 
The  wondrous  laws  which  Beauty  can  impose, 
The  marvels  which  her  treasuries  disclose. 
Were  knit  together  in  a  single  band 
By  the  light  touch  of  your  inquiring  hand. 
Rose  obelisk  and  pyramid  on  high, 
Upstood  the  Hermes,  and  the  pillar  sprang  ; 
From  woodland  reeds  melodious  numbers  rang, 
And  doughty  feats  were  told  In  minstrelsy. 

The  choicest  blossoms  of  the  flowery  field 
With  dainty  judgment  in  one  posy  found — 
So  first  did  Nature  Art's  addresses  yield 
So  were  the  posies  in  one  garland  bound  ; 
87 


THE  ARTISTS. 

More  subtly  did  th'  artistic  sense  expand 
Beneath  the  touch  of  man's  creative  hand. 
The  child  of  beauty,  perfect  of  its  kind, 
Shaped  and  completed  by  your  loving  skill. 
Loses  the  wreaths  which  round  its  temples  wind 
As  with  Reality  it  learns  to  thrill. 
The  pillar,  yielding  to  Proportion's  law, 
Must  with  its  neighbours  form  a  common  chain, 
The  hero  must  amid  the  ranks  withdraw. 
Inspiring,  clashes  the  Maeonian  strain. 

Then  the  Barbarians  in  wonder  came. 

These  new  creations  curious  to  scan  : — 

**  See,"  you  might  hear  their  jovial  hosts  exclaim, 

**  All  this  is  fashioned  by  the  hand  of  man  !  " 

In  happy,  careless,  sociable  array 

Agape  they  crowded  round  the  minstrel's  lyre, 

And  while  he  still  attuned  his  rousing  lay 

Of  Titans,  murderous  beasts,  and  giant  fray. 

So  long  did  lofty  thoughts  their  souls  inspire. 

Thus  first  the  soul  to  real  bliss  is  stirred. 

Awakened  thus  to  calm,  reposeful  joy. 

Borne  from  a  distant  sphere,  without  alloy. 

Existence  by  no  crying  need  is  blurred  ; 

Quiet  remains,  and  pleasures  do  not  cloy. 

Now,  shaking  oif  its  sensuous  repose. 
To  freedom  sprang  th'  emancipated  mind ; 
Released  by  you,  the  careworn  slave  arose. 
Sought  happiness,  and  left  his  cares  behind. 
Mere  brute  existence  with  its  narrow  scope 
Came  to  an  end ;  man's  noble  brow  was  plain. 
The  glorious  alien.  Reason,  ceased  to  grope. 
And  bounded  from  the  free  and  startled  brain. 
88 


THE  ARTISTS. 

Then  did  man  stand,  and  to  the  stars  upturned 
The  kingly  lineaments  which  now  he  wore  ; 
His  radiant  eye  beneath  the  sunbeams  burned, 
And  boundless  space  delighted  to  explore. 
His  features  glowed  with  a  contented  smile, 
The  soul-inspired  music  of  his  cry 
Bursting  in  song,  his  moments  would  beguile, 
And  feeling  glistened  in  his  softened  eye. 
His  quickened  lips  in  happy  blend  expressed 
Now  serious  tones  and  now  some  merry  jest. 

Working  in  darkness  like  the  grovelling  worm. 

And  moved  alone  by  sensuous  desire, 

Within  his  swelling  breast  ye  might  admire 

The  spiritual  essence  in  its  germ. 

And  if  his  sensuous  ignoble  fire 

The  glorious  germ  of  noble  love  could  stay. 

He  owed  it  to  that  first  Arcadian  Lay. — 

Exalted  to  nobility  of  thought. 

He  saw  his  passions  to  subjection  brought, 

And  from  his  lips  harmonious  measures  rolled. 

His  cheeks  with  liquid  blushes  were  bedewed. 

And  what  remaining  aims  he  now  pursued 

A  spiritual  fellowship  foretold. 

The  wisdom  of  the  wisest,  and  the  might 

Of  wasting  force,  retiring  timid  grace. 

All  these  within  one  picture  frame  unite 

And  glorify  sweet  Nature's  radiant  face. 

From  the  unknowable  men  shrank  in  dread 

Yet  clung  to  its  reflection  unaware  ; 

And  brilliant  heroes  burned  to  have  it  said 

That  with  the  mighty  one  they  could  compare. 

Ye  caused  ideal  Beauty's  fairy  spell 

Through  all  the  bounds  of  Nature's  realm  to  swell. 

89 


THE  ARTISTS. 

The  reckless  fury  of  the  passions'  play, 

Th'  ungoverned  ups  and  downs  of  changing  Fate, 

Instinct  and  Duty  all  in  disarray, 

Thine  ordered  touch  did  gently  elevate, 

And  firmly  set  upon  the  upward  way. 

What  Nature  grasps  in  her  majestic  course, 

Hurls  to  the  winds,  and  into  tatters  tears. 

On  stage,  in  song  alike,  acquires  a  force 

Which  shows  that  ordered  harmony  is  theirs. 

So  may  ye  mark  the  secret  murderer  quail 

Before  the  Furies'  melancholy  wail  ; 

Their  solemn  chant  his  awful  doom  declares. 

Long  ere  the  wise  could  their  opinion  state, 

An  Iliad  had  declared  the  mystic  fate 

Of  first  antiquity,  and  made  it  plain. 

And  Providence  in  observation  sat, 

The  world  considering  from  Thespis'  wain. 

But  in  the  great  procession  of  the  world 
Your  fair  proportions  were  too  soon  unfurled. 
When  Destiny,  with  its  mysterious  hand. 
Refused  those  mighty  forces  to  disband 
Which  it  had  harmonised  before  thy  sight, 
Life  was  enshrouded  with  a  fatal  blight 
Before  its  lovely  course  was  fully  spanned. 
Then,  trusting  to  your  potency  alone, 
Your  arch  ye  hurled  across  the  dark  unknown  ; 
Boldly  ye  plunged,  regardless  of  the  cost 
Into  Avernus  rolling  through  the  gloom. 
And  found  that  life  which  seemed  for  ever  lost 
In  regions  which  exist  beyond  the  tomb. 
There  in  a  blaze  of  undiluted  light 
See  Castor  on  the  blooming  Pollux  lean ; 
O'er  the  moon's  surface  mark  the  shadow's  flight 
Till  the  whole  orb  presents  a  silver  sheen. 
90 


THE  ARTISTS. 

Yet  higher  still — and  to  the  highest  spheres, 

Th'  inventive  faculty  extends  its  sway  ; 

Creation  on  creation  fast  appears, 

And  harmony  to  harmony  gives  way, 

What  here  can  merely  captivate  the  eye. 

There  fashions  perfect  beauty  at  its  best ; 

The  graceful  charms  on  which  the  nymphs  rely, 

Purified  there,  Athene's  self  suggest. 

The  power  which  the  wrestler's  muscle  swells, 

Need  not  the  gentle  deity  endow; 

In  the  Olympian  shrine  depicted  dwells 

— The  age's  wonder — Jove's  illustrious  brow. 

The  world,  transfigured  by  laborious  care, 
The  human  heart,  by  new  emotions  fanned,, 
Which  all  the  trials  of  existence  share. 
For  you  Creation's  limits  can  expand. 
Awakening  man  on  swelling  pinions  flies, 
Clinging  to  Art  the  closer  as  he  soars. 
And  realms  of  beauty  all  unknown  arise 
From  the  enlightened  world's  prolific  stores. 
The  narrow  bounds  of  knowledge  disappear  ; 
The  soul,  accustomed  'neath  your  easy  rein, 
Th'  artistic  whole  of  Beauty  to  attain 
With  rapid  and  accommodating  grace. 
Plants  Nature's  distant  columns  in  their  place, 
And  passes  by  her  on  her  dark  career. 
Now  man  can  judge  her  by  a  human  scale. 
With  weights  appraise  her  which  herself  supplies  ; 
Now  must  she  cast  away  the  envious  veil 
And  manifest  her  glories  to  his  eyes. 
With  youthful  satisfaction  he  inspires 
The  very  spheres  with  his  harmonious  strains, 
And  if  the  world's  construction  he  admires, 
'Tis  that  symmetrical  proportion  reigns. 
91 


THE  ARTISTS. 

*Mid  all  the  seething  life  which  round  him  flows 

Dainty  Proportion  ever  holds  Its  place  ; 

And  Beauty's  golden  girdle  lightly  throws 

Its  fetters  round  him  in  his  earthly  race. 

The  consummated  work  its  balm  bestows, 

And  crowns  your  labours  with  triumphant  grace. 

Where  happiness  is  found  without  alloy, 

Wherever  hides  the  head  of  silent  grief. 

Where  contemplation  dwells  in  lonely  joy, 

Where  misery  from  tears  invites  relief. 

Where  terrors  thousandfold  about  him  press — 

There  follows  an  harmonious  rippling  strain  ; 

The  Graces  sport  in  wanton  idleness, 

And  with  a  chastened  mien  and  soft  address 

Around  him  cast  their  all-entrancing  chain. 

Softly,  as  lines  of  beauty  interlace, 

As  the  phenomena,  which  round  him  play, 

In  melting  outlines  give  each  other  place, 

So  gently  fleets  his  latest  breath  away. 

His  soul  dissolves  in  the  harmonious  swell, 

His  senses  with  voluptuous  dreams  are  fraught, 

Focussing  all  their  fading  powers  of  thought 

On  Cytherea's  influence  to  dwell. 

His  fate  established  in  eternity, 

On  Muse  and  Grace  alternate  he  relies. 

And  bares  his  bosom  with  an  eager  cry 

To  the  impending  weapon  as  it  flies 

From  the  mild  bowstring  of  necessity. 

Ye  favourites  of  Harmony  divine, 
Cheery  companions  on  life's  dull  road. 
The  noblest,  dearest  gift  she  can  assign, 
Who  gave  us  life,  on  us  she  has  bestowed  ! 
That  man  enlarged  his  duties  should  pursue 
And  love  the  fetters  which  his  soul  endue, 
92 


THE  ARTISTS. 

That  he  no  longer  is  the  tool  of  fate — 

He  owes  it  all  to  your  eternal  state, 

And  your  reward  is  found  within  your  breast. 

If  round  the  bowl  whence  thoughts  of  freedom  swell 

The  merry  deities  delight  to  jest, 

If  sw^eet  deluding  visions  o'er  it  dwell, 

For  this  be  lovingly  caressed  ! 

And  for  that  Spirit  whose  commanding  might 

Even  Necessity  with  grace  surrounds. 

Who  bids  his  ether  and  the  starry  bounds 

With  delicacy  shed  their  welcome  light, 

Who,  clad  in  terrors,  still  is  hailed  with  joy, 

And  moves  in  splendour  even  to  destroy — 

Him  imitate,  for  his  is  Art  supreme. 

As  o'er  the  tell-tale  surface  of  the  stream 

The  varied  banks  light-footed  seem  to  glide, 

With  flowers  'neath  the  sunset  rays  unfurled, 

So  o'er  life's  trials  happily  preside 

The  pleasant  fictions  of  the  Shadow  world. 

Ye  led  us  forth  in  nuptial  array 

To  where  the  great  Unknown  exert  their  sway, 

To  where  the  unrelenting  Fates  abide. 

The  sorrows  by  the  dismal  choir  expressed 

With  magic  charm  ye  tenderly  invest, 

As  your  fair  urns  their  sacred  ashes  hide. 

A  thousand  thousand  years  I  have  surveyed 

The  boundless  realm  of  times  that  are  gone  by  ; 

Humanity  adored  you  while  ye  stayed. 

And  your  departure  witnessed  with  a  sigh  ! 

Humanity,  which  on  impetuous  wing 
From  your  creative  hand  its  impulse  drew, 
In  later  days  rejoiced  again  to  cling 
To  your  protecting  arm,  as  wrinkles  grew, 

93 


THE  ARTISTS. 

As  time  began  to  leave  its  certain  trace, 

When  the  strong  limbs  were  conscious  of  decay. 

And  with  a  slow  and  hesitating  pace 

The  tottering  greybeard  hobbled  on  his  way. 

Then  issued  bounteous  from  your  living  well 

A  stream  of  life  all  suffering  to  dispel  ; 

Twice  did  the  count  of  Time  begin  anew 

Thanks  to  the  quickening  seed  which  thou  didst  strew. 

Ejected  by  the  wild  barbarian  train, 
Ye  snatched  the  latest  sacrificial  brand 
From  the  polluted  oriental  fane, 
And  bore  it  glowing  to  the  western  land. 
The  exile,  from  his  eastern  setting  torn. 
Rose,  a  new  day,  upon  the  western  scene^ 
And,  in  Hesperian  surroundings  born, 
Ionian  flowers  peeped  in  early  green. 
A  fairer  Nature  shed  upon  the  soul 
A  clear  reflection  well  defined  and  bright^ 
And  o'er  the  favoured  spirit  proudly  stole 
Th'  illuminating  Goddess  of  the  Light. 
A  thousand  thousand  fetters  fell  away, 
Then  slaves  experienced  the  rights  of  man  ; 
'Neath  the  new  generation's  milder  sway 
Mankind,  like  brothers,  owned  a  common  clan. 
With  inner  consciousness  of  noble  pride 
Ye  revelled  in  the  happiness  ye  wrought ; 
Then,  veiled  in  modesty,  ye  stepped  aside 
As  though  thy  favours  were  accounted  nought. 

If  with  the  right  to  think — now  all  his  own — 
Th'  inquiring  spirit  confidently  strays, 
And  reaches  prematurely  for  the  crown, 
Exulting  in  his  own  triumphant  praise  ; 

94 


THE  ARTISTS. 

Should  he  dismiss  with  a  contemptuous  wage 
His  glorious  leader  and  consummate  guide, 
And  a  mere  slave  of  higher  rank  engage 
Near  Art's  high  throne,  indifferent,  to  preside  : — 
Forgive  his  confidence  !  For  even  now 
Perfection's  garland  decorates  your  brow. 
Your  early  blossoms  were  the  first  to  spring 
'Neath  bounteous  Nature's  soul-inspiring  wing ; 
From  you,  the  harvest  chaplet  safely  won, 
Nature  departs,  her  gracious  duties  done. 

Creative  Art,  which  simple  stone  and  clay 
Peoples  with  life,  holds  its  victorious  sway 
Where'er  the  mind  can  pass  it  in  review. 
The  learning  which  discoverers  display, 
Which  they  have  conquered,  is  displayed  for  you. 
The  treasure  which  th'  abstracted  thinker  hoards 
First  in  your  arms  full  recompense  affords 
When  beauty  plays  with  science  equal  part — 
The  whole  ennobled  as  a  thing  of  Art. — 
When  by  your  side  some  mountain  he  ascends 
And,  as  the  setting  sun  with  even  blends. 
Perceives  the  beauteous  landscape  with  a  start. 
The  njpre  ye  realise  that  hasty  glance, 
.ig--^_^— ^Ptie^more  will  lofty  creatures  of  romance 
/Mingle  with  ordered  beauties  of  the  mind 
In  systematic  harmony  combined, 
The  more  that  noble  sentiment  and  thought 
With  higher  strains  of  harmony  are  fraught, 
And  beauty  flowing  in  a  fuller  stream, — 
So  much  the  more  the  parts  of  Nature's  scheme, 
Which  now  a  mutilated  medley  lie, 
Will  shape  themselves  to  perfect  symmetry ; 
Fairer  will  mysteries  from  darkness  rise. 
The  world  be  richer  which  before  him  lies, 
95 


THE  ARTISTS. 

Broader  the  ocean  upon  which  he  glides^ 

Feebler  the  power  chance  alone  decides. 

The  more  his  aims  aspire  to  things  above, 

Less  will  he  think  of  self,  the  more  of  lovew 

So  by  poetic  instinct  he  is  led 

With  undeterminate,  unconscious  tread, 

Through  purer  forms,  striking  a  finer  key, 

To  beauty  in  its  infinite  degree. 

At  length,  at  the  appointed  goal  of  time 

He  savours  one  more  ecstasy  sublime — 

The  generation's  new  poetic  ring — 

And  to  Truth's  faithful  arms  he  longs  to  cling* 

And  she  herself,  the  gentle  Cyprian  maid, 
Illumined  with  a  crown  of  fairy  light. 
Appears  before  her  grown-up  son,  arrayed 
In  splendour — as  Urania  bedight. 
The  readier  she  submitted  to  his  sway, 
The  fairer  he  on  his  departing  way. 
No  less  enchanting  was  the  sweet  surprise 
Of  great  Ulysses'  son,  where  'neath  his  eyes^, 
Mentor's  familiar  lineaments  gave  place 
To  wise  Athene's  heaven-imparted  grace. 

Ye  hold  in  trust  the  honour  of  mankind  ; 
Guard  it  !  With  yours  'tis  closely  intertwined 
The  charm  of  poetry  we  rightly  deem 
Part  of  creation's  well-appointed  scheme. 
Let  it  roll  on  and  melt  into  the  sea 
Of  a  divinely  blended  harmony  ! 

When  Truth  is  taunted  by  its  proper  age^. 
Let  her  appeal  to  the  poetic  page 
And  seek  a  refuge  in  the  Muses'  choir. 
Her  real  claims  more  readily  inspire 

96 


I  THE  ARTISTS. 


Respect,  that  they  are  shrouded  o'er  with  grace. 
May  she  in  Song-  for  ever  find  a  place, 
And  on  her  dastard  enemies  shall  rain 
Avenging  pagans  in  triumphant  strain. 

Ye  free-born  scions  of  a  mother  free, 
Press  onward  firmly  with  exalted  eyes  ; 
Perfected  beauty  only  may  ye  see. 
And  lesser  crowns  ye  need  not  stoop  to  prize  ! 
The  sister  missing  in  this  present  sphere 
Clasped  to  her  mother's  bosom  ye  shall  find  ; 
What  lofty  souls  as  beautiful  revere 
Must  noble  be,  and  perfect  of  its  kind. 
Poised  high  above  your  life-appointed  span, 
Let  your  ecstatic  pinions  freely  swell  ! 
The  dawning  image  in  your  mirror  scan, 
And  the  approaching  century  foretell. 
By  thousand  paths  and  many  devious  ways 
Through  every  varied  turning  ye  shall  glide 
To  welcome  in  the  fulness  of  her  days 
Harmonious  concord,  your  delight  and  guide  ! 

As  breaks  the  pure  disseminated  ray 
Into  its  seven  gently  blended  tints. 
And  as  the  seven  tinted  rainbow  gay. 
Dissolving,  with  one  white  presentment  glints, 
So  in  a  thousand  magnitudes  will  glow,« 
Entrancing,  yet  bewildering  the  sight, 
The  gathering  rills  of  Truth,  which  ever  flow 
Into  the  stream  of  universal  Light. 


97 


THE  MEETING. 


I  see  her  still  with  her  attendant  train — 

The  fairest  she  amid  so  many  fair. 

Aloof  in  hesitation  I  remain, 

For  with  the  very  sun  she  could  compare. 

Voluptuous  tremors  all  my  being  filled 

Beneath  the  focus  of  her  magic  fire  ; 

Then,  all  at  once,  with  winged  rapture  thrilled, 

My  yearning  fingers  swept  the  soothing  lyre. 

What  thoughts  into  that  moment  were  compressed 

I  know  not,  I  forget  what  words  I  sang. 

A  new-born  power  rose  within  my  breast 

And  all  my  heart  with  deep  emotion  rang. 

It  was  my  Soul,  which,  long  in  shackles  bound, 

With  sudden  burst  its  fetters  cast  away  ; 

And  in  its  newly  probed  recesses  found 

A  note  divine  which  unsuspected  lay. 

And  when  the  tuneful  melody  was  hushed. 

My  soul  returned  from  its  unconscious  flight : 

I  marked  how  her  seraphic  features  blushed, 

Saw  Love  with  bashful  modesty  unite  ; 

In  Heavenly  Spheres  methought  I  seemed  to  fly 

When  flattered  by  her  gentle  gracious  tone  ; 

'Mid  the  angelic  choirs  above  the  sky 

Such  tones  are  heard,  and  surely  there  alone. 

98 


THE  MEETING. 

That  faithful  heart,  pining  in  blank  despair, 
And  yet  too  modest  to  articulate — 
!  of  its  hidden  merits  am  aware, 
And  will  safeguard  it  'gainst  too  hard  a  fate. 
The  needy  shall  the  richest  prize  receive, 
Love's  flowers  may  be  plucked  by  Love  alone. 
That  heart  the  fairest  treasure  shall  achieve 
Which  feels,  and  speaks  in  most  responsive  tone. 


99  H  2 


TO  EMMA. 

In  the  distance  dark  and  grey 
Fades  my  former  bliss  from  view,. 
To  one  star  my  glances  stray 
Basking  in  its  gentle  dew — 
But  a  star,  alas  !  whose  light 
Glitters  only  in  the  night. 

Didst  thou  sleep  thy  final  sleep, 
Were  thine  eyes  for  ever  dimmed,. 
In  my  heart  engraven  deep 
Still  thy  memory  would  be  limned. 
But,  alas  !  in  light  enshrined, 
To  my  worship  thou  art  blind. 

Can  the  hope  which  love  instils. 
Can  it,  Emma,  transient  prove? 
What  no  longer  lives  and  thrills, 
Emma,  how  can  that  be  Love  ? 
Can  the  flame  of  heavenly  birth 
Perish  like  some  gift  of  earth  ? 


lOO 


THE  SECRET. 


No  utterance  to  her  lips  might  rise, 
Too  many  Hsteners  were  by  ; 
I  could  but  shyly  seek  her  eyes, 
And  there  her  secret  thought  descry. 
With  noiseless  fall  my  footsteps  press 
The  silence  of  thy  leafy  glade  ; 
Oh,  hide  in  thine  embowered  recess 
From  eyes  profane  our  holy  Love. 

From  far  away  a  mingled  roar 
Proclaims  the  busy  toil  of  day. 
And  o'er  the  din  of  voices  soar 
The  clattering  hammers  as  they  play. 
Thus  hardly  do  poor  mortals  wring 
Their  scanty  mercies  from  on  high, 
And  yet  how  lightly  blessings  spring 
When  generous  gods  mankind  supply. 

May  human  beings  never  learn 
How  deep  and  true  our  love  has  grown  ; 
Our  happiness  they  would  but  spurn 
Since  joy  to  them  was  never  known. 
The  world  rewards  with  grudging  hand. 
And  Fortune  must  be  seized  by  force  ; 
If  thine  attempts  it  should  withstand 
Mistrust  and  spite  will  have  their  course. 

lOI 


THE  SECRET. 

It  comes  on  tiptoe's  fairy  tread, 
Loving  the  stilly  hours  of  night, 
And  in  an  instant  it  has  fled 
Should  my  betrayer  come  in  sight. 
Thou  gentle  river,  circle  round 
And  hold  us  in  thy  kind  embrace, 
And,  rushing,  let  thy  very  sound 
Protect  this  gift,  this  holy  place  ! 


I02 


SUSPENSE. 


Did  I  hear  the  hinges  groan  ? 
Was  not  that  the  latchet's  shake  ? 
No,  it  was  the  zephyr's  moan 
Through  the  bowing  poplar  brake. 

Put  on  thy  best,  thou  verdant,  leafy  glade, 

To  welcome  my  beloved  to  her  home  ; 

Ye  branches,  lend  your  sympathetic  shade 

To  shroud  her  'neath  your  dark  mysterious  dome. 

And  ye,  ye  merry  breezes,  freely  play 

In  wanton  sport  upon  her  rosy  cheeks, 

As,  scarcely  burdening  the  favoured  way. 

With  dainty  steps  Love's  very  home  she  seeks. 

Listen  !     What  was  that  I  heard 
Rustling  sharply  through  the  sedge  ?         • 
— Nay,  'twas  but  a  timid  bird, 
Rising  startled  from  the  hedge. 

Quench,  day,  thy  torch  !  and  thou  congenial  night, 
Thy  grateful  silence  on  the  scene  impose, 
Around  us  shed  thine  own  empurpled  light. 
And  'neath  clandestine  boughs  our  loves  enclose. 
For  Love  can  tolerate  no  lurking  ear. 
She  shuns  th'   immodest,  staring  eye  of  day, 
And  only  Hesperus  may  venture  near. 
Her  confidential  triflings  to  survey. 

lO-J 


SUSPENSE. 

Did  I  hear  the  murmuring  sound 
Of  a  whisper  soft  and  low  ? 
— 'Twas  the  swan  who,  saiHng  round, 
Cleaves  the  pool  with  breast  of  snow. 

About  mine  ears  harmonious  measures  throb, 
The  merry  water  dashes  down  the  ghylls, 
The  western  breezes  through  the  flowers  sob, 
And  all  creation  happiness  distills. 
The  purple  grape,  the  golden  peach  invite. 
Saucily  peeping  from  their  sheltering  leaves  ; 
The  kissing  air,  with  spicy  odours  light, 
The  passion  of  my  glowing  cheek  receives. 

Did  I  hear  some  echoing  foot 
Crackling  o'er  the  shady  walk  ? 
— Nay,  'twas  but  a  falling  fruit. 
All  too  heavy  for  its  stalk. 

Now  gently  closes  Day's  efl'ulgent  eye 
In  painless  death,  and  all  its  colours  fade, 
Rejoicing  in  the  soft  and  kindly  shade. 
The  moon  in  silence  throws  her  silvery  ray, 
Dissolving  masses  from  the  world  exhale. 
Beauty  its  jealous  girdle  casts  away, 
And  loveliness  appears  without  a  veil. 

Something  white  before  me  skimmed  : 
Was  it  not  a  silken  train  ? 
— Nay,  'twas  but  yon  pillars  limned 
On  the  dark  yew  hedge  again. 

Oh,  yearning,  self-deceiving  heart,  forbear 
Thy  warm.th  on  visionary  forms  to  vent ; 
The  arm  which  would  embrace  her  is  not  there, 
No  phantom  fortune  can  this  soul  content. 
104 


SUSPENSE. 

Oh  !  bring  her  living  self  in  very  deed, 
Let  me  but  feel  her  little  fairy  hand  ; 
Even  to  touch  her  mantle's  hem  I  plead, 
So  will  my  dream  to  real  life  expand. 

As  the  heavens  intervene 
Unexpected  gifts  to  send, 
So  did  she  approach  unseen 
And  with  kisses  wake  her  friend. 


105 


EVENING. 
(FROM  A  PICTURE.) 

Set,  flaming  god  ! — The  pastures  thirst 
For  quickening  dew,  man's  powers  fail  ; 
Thy  weary  coursers  drag. 
Then  let  thy  chariot  pause  ! 

Who  hails  thee  from  the  crystal  wave 
With  smiling  beck  ?     Answers  thy  heart  ? 
The  horses  mend  their  speed, 
'Tis  godlike  Thetis  calls. 

Into  her  arms  the  charioteer 

Springs  down,  and  Cupid  takes  the  reins. 

The  placid  horses  stand 

And  drink  the  cooling  stream. 

With  stealthy  pace  across  the  sky 
Glides  balmy  night,  Love  in  her  train. 
In  peace  and  love  abide  ! 
E'en  Phoebus  rests  and  loves. 


io6 


DESIRE. 

Ah  !  if  from  this  dreary  vale 
Where  the  fog  banks  ever  lie, 
To  escape  I  could  prevail 
Who  vi^ould  be  so  glad  as  I  ? 
Yonder  hills  rejoice  my  sight, 
Ever  young  and  ever  green  ; 
Had  I  wings  to  aid  my  flight, 
Soon  were  leapt  the  space  between. 

Harmonies  entrance  mine  ear, 
Tones  of  sweet  celestial  calm  ; 
And  the  gentle  zephyrs  bear 
Odours  of  enchanting  balm. 
Fruits  I  see  with  golden  sheen 
Peeping  through  their  leafy  veil ;    . 
Never  have  those  flowers  been 
Ravaged  by  the  wintry  gale. 

Happy  those  who  dwell  above 
There  in  everlasting  light ; 
Healing  must  the  breezes  prove 
Circling  o'er  yon  airy  height. 
But  the  torrent  bids  me  shrink, 
Whose  forbidding  waters  roll 
Boiling  to  their  very  brink. 
Haunting  my  unhappy  souU 
107 


DESIRE. 

I  see  a  bark  upon  the  tide, 
But  the  boatman,  where  is  he  ? 
Never  heed — in  Heaven  confide, 
Who  will  fill  the  sails  for  thee. 
Faith  thou  needest,  and  must  dare, 
Or  the  gods  withhold  their  hand. 
Nought  but  miracle  can  bear 
Man  into  the  unknown  land. 


io8 


THE  PILGRIM. 

All  the  strength  of  youth  enjoying, 
Forth  I  went  afar  to  roam  ; 
Giving  up  the  childish  toying 
Of  my  dear  parental  home. 

All  my  wealth,  on  faith  relying. 
Willingly  I  left  behind  ; 
With  a  pilgrim's  staff  defying 
All  the  world  with  simple  mind. 

For  a  mighty  inspiration 
Urged  me  on  in  tones  sincere  : — 
Saying  *'  go,  'tis  thy  vocation 
To  pursue  a  high  career. 

If  thou  seest  a  golden  portal 
Enter  it  without  delay  : 
Things  of  earth  are  there  immortal 
And  shall  never  pass  away." 

Morn  and  eve  in  due  procession 
Followed  ;  never  did  I  rest ; 
But  I  sought  in  dark  depression, 
Never  nearer  to  my  quest. 

In  my  way  stood  precipices, 
Torrents  hemmed  my  path  below ; 
Over  rivers  and  abysses 
Crazy  bridges  I  must  throw. 
109 


THE  PILGRIM. 

Then  at  last  I  found  a  river 
Rolling  toward  the  glowing  East» 
And  with  a  confiding  quiver, 
Hurled  myself  upon  its  breast. 

Down  to  the  unbounded  ocean 
The  resistless  waters  roll, 
Tossing  me  with  merry  motion — 
But  no  nearer  is  my  goal ! 

For  no  bridge  can  span  the  distance  ; 
And,  alas  !  the  heavenly  sphere 
Lends  to  earth  no  close  assistance  : 
And  the  There  is  never  Here  1 


no 


THE  IDEALS. 


Ah  !  cruel,  must  thou  then  depart 
And  leave  me  joyless  and  alone, 
Forgetful  of  what  joy  and  smart 
In  close  communion  we  have  known  ? 
Can  nothing  thy  departure  stay, 
Thou  golden  stage  of  earthly  time  ? — 
'Tis  vain  :  thy  billows  roll  away 
To  the  eternal  sea  sublime. 

Extinguished  is  each  radiant  sun 
Which  used  my  youthful  steps  to  guide ; 
Ideals  have  their  days  outrun. 
Which  used  to  swell  my  heart  with  pride 
That  simple  faith  no  more  is  mine 
Which  used  to  issue  from  my  dreams, 
And  that  which  once  appeared  divine, 
Now  commonplace  and  worldly  seems. 

Just  as  Pygmalion  of  yore 
The  marble  cherished  in  his  arms 
Till  e'en  the  chilly  marble  wore 
The  blushing  glow  of  living  charms, 
So  in  my  loving  clasp  I  pressed 
Nature  with  all  the  fire  of  youth. 
Till,  clinging  to  my  poet's  breast, 
She  breathed  and  lived  in  very  truth. 
Ill 


THE  IDEALS. 

And,  sharing  my  ecstatic  bliss, 

Though  speechless,  soon  a  language  founds 

And  recognised  with  loving  kiss 

My  secret  heart's  tumultuous  bound. 

The  trees  and  roses  lived  for  me, 

I  loved  the  music  of  the  streams  ; 

The  very  soul-less  would  agree 

To  mingle  in  my  sanguine  dreams. 

Eagerly  my  contracted  soul 
To  larger,  bolder  thoughts  was  spurred  : 
I  pictured  one  harmonious  whole. 
Perfect  in  deed  and  form  and  word. 
How  glorious  appeared  the  world 
While  still  within  the  germ  it  lay  ; 
Yet  as  the  petal  sheath  unfurled, 
How  puny  and  what  common  clay  ! 

How,  balanced  on  adventurous  wing^ 
Rejoicing  in  his  pleasant  dream, 
Without  a  care  his  thoughts  to  wring, 
Youth  plunged  into  life's  giddy  stream  I 
Through  ether  to  the  furthest  star 
His  resolution  bore  him  on  ; 
No  place  so  high,  no  goal  so  far 
But  with  those  pinions  could  be  won. 

How  lightly  was  he  borne  aloft  ! 
What  was  too  hard  for  such  as  he  ? 
Around  his  car  with  footsteps  soft 
There  tripped  a  fairy  company. — 
Love,  with  its  own  especial  prize. 
Fortune  adorned  with  crown  of  gold^ 
Fame  soaring  to  the  starry  skies, 
Truth  without  one  concealing  fold. 

112 


THE  IDEALS. 

But,  ah  !  ere  half  the  way  was  sped 

A  sorry  course  that  escort  steered 

With  careless  and  perfidious  tread, 

Till  one  by  one  they  disappeared. 

Light-footed  fortune  fell  away, 

The  thirst  for  knowledge  thirst  remained, 

And  clouds  of  doubt  began  to  stray 

Where  once  the  blaze  of  truth  had  reigned. 

I  saw  the  golden  crown  of  Fame 
Encircle  a  plebeian  brow  : 
Alas  !  too  soon  the  climax  came. 
And  days  of  Love  are  over  now ! 
More  grim  and  weird  the  silence  fell 
Upon  the  steep  abandoned  road, 
Scarce  could  a  ray  of  hope  dispel 
The  gloom  upon  the  path  I  trod. 


Of  all  that  merry  company. 
Which  stood  beside  me  to  the  last  ? 
Which  comforted  my  parting  sigh  ? 
Which  will  abide  when  all  is  past  ? 
Friendship  'tis  thou,  whose  healing  balm 
Is  lightly  spread  o'er  every  wound. 
Sharing  our  ills  with  loving  calm  ; 
Thou  whom  I  early  sought  and  found. 

And,  Labour,  thou,  who  hand  in  hand 
With  her  can  exorcise  the  soul. 
Who  canst  all  weariness  withstand, 
Whose  solid  tasks  with  time  unroll, 
Although  thou  travail  grain  by  grain 
To  rear  Eternity  sublime, 
Years,  minutes,  days  thou  canst  detain 
From  the  tremendous  debt  of  Time. 

113  I 


THE  MAIDEN'S  LAMENT. 


The  clouds  draw  closer,  the  oak  trees  groan, 
On  the  verdant  bank  sits  a  maiden  alone. 
The  billows  are  breaking  with  might — with  might, 
And  she  groans  aloud  to  the  desolate  night, 
And  her  eyes  are  dim  with  tears. 

**  The  world  is  a  blank,  and  my  heart  is  sore, 
No  hope  of  mine  shall  be  granted  more. 
Father,  recall  me,  if  such  thy  will. 
Of  the  pleasures  of  earth  I  have  had  my  fill; 
I  have  lived  and  I  have  loved  !  " 

But  all  in  vain  were  the  tears  she  shed, 
For  no  lamentation  can  wake  the  dead  ; 
"  Yet  say  what  comfort  can  best  atone 
For  the  holy  joy  of  the  love  which  is  gone, 
That  comfort  shall  be  thine." 

"Though  all  in  vain  are  the  tears  I  shed. 
Though  no  lamentation  can  wake  the  dead, 
The  remedy  which  can  best  atone 
For  the  holy  joy  of  the  love  which  is  gone 
Is  the  pang  of  Love  itself." 


114 


THE  YOUTH  AT  THE  BROOK. 


By  the  brook  the  youth  was  sitting 

And  a  wreath  of  flowers  wound, 
Watched  the  dancing  petals  flitting 

In  the  ripples  round  and  round. 
So  my  days  are  passing,  passing, 

Ever  restless  like  the  burn, 
And  my  youth  is  fading,  fading. 

As  the  drooping  garlands  turn  ! 

Ask  me  not  why  I  am  mourning 

In  my  budding  youthful  days. 
When  the  bloom  of  Spring  returning 

Hope  and  joy  to  all  conveys. 
Ah  !  the  thousand  voices  darting 

From  awakening  Nature  round. 
In  my  secret  bosom  smarting, 

Do  but  grave  a  deeper  wound. 

What  avails  to  me  the  pleasure 

Offered  by  the  fairy  May  ? 
One  I  seek — one  only  treasure, 

Ever  near,  yet  far  away. 
Wide  my  arms  are  strained  to  clasp  her, 

Press  the  vision  to  my  breast, 
But,  alas  !  they  fail  to  grasp  her. 

And  my  soul  despairs  of  rest. 

115  12 


THE  YOUTH  AT  THE  BROOK. 

Ah  !  descend,  my  sacred  beauty, 

From  thy  proud  embattled  keep  ! 
Flowers  it  shall  be  my  duty 

In  thy  fragrant  lap  to  heap. 
Hark  !  with  songs  the  grove  is  swelling. 

Purls  the  brook  serene  and  fair, 
Spacious  is  the  lowliest  dwelling 

To  a  happy  loving  pair. 


ii6 


THE  FAVOUR  OF  THE  MOMENT. 


Thus  it  is  we  meet  again 
In  the  merry  realm  of  song  : 
Fitting  garlands  let  us  train 
To  bedeck  the  tuneful  throng. 

But  of  all  the  Godlike  host 
Which  deserves  our  tribute  first  ? 
Surely  he  deserves  it  most 
Who  with  pleasure  slakes  our  thirst. 

For  what  boots  it  that  a  soul 
Ceres  breathes  into  the  shrine, 
Or  that  Bacchus  fills  the  bowl 
With  his  rich  empurpled  wine, 

If  the  spark  be  not  from  heaven 
Which  excites  the  sacred  fire, 
If  the  spirit  be  not  riven. 
If  the  heart  do  not  aspire  ? 

Fortune  must  from  heaven  fall 
As  the  mighty  gods  allow  ; 
But  the  greatest  chance  of  all 
Is  the  present  moment — Now  ! 

Since  infant  Nature  had  its  birth 
In  distant  ages  far  away. 
The  godliest  triumph  upon  earth 
Is  thought,  and  thought's  enlightening  ray. 
117 


THE  FAVOUR  OF  THE  MOMENT. 

Slowly,  in  the  ages  course 
Stones  are  fitted,  tier  on  tier  ; 
To  the  soul  with  lightning  force 
Shall  th'  accomplished  work  appear. 

As  the  sun  on  earth  below 
Fairy-coloured  fabrics  limns. 
As  upon  her  brilliant  bow 
Iris  through  the  ether  skims, 

So  is  every  priceless  boon 
Fleeting  as  the  lightning  wave  ; 
Night  is  nigh,  and  all  too  soon 
It  must  sink  into  the  grave. 


ii8 


A  MOUNTAIN  SONG. 

It  is  but  a  plank  which  bestrides  the  crevasse, 

'Twixt  life  and  eternity  hovers  the  scale, 

The  giants  of  Nature  are  holding  the  pass 

And  angrily  threats  of  destruction  exhale. 

Through  the  horrid  domain  thou  must  stealthily  creep 

Lest  the  terrible  avalanche  wake  from  his  sleep. 

A  bridge  there  hovers  far  over  the  edge 
Of  the  gloomy  depths  beneath  which  cower  ; 
No  hand  of  mortal  upreared  that  ledge, 
That  were  beyond  all  mortal  power. 
The  torrents  may  rage  on  it  as  they  will 
Early  and  late — it  stands  there  still. 

The  yawning  gate  has  a  hideous  mien 
You  might  think  it  the  gloomy  realm  of  the  dead. 
Yet  through  it  there  smiles  an  enchanting  scene. 
As  though  fair  Autumn  the  Spring  had  wed. 
Ah  !  could  I  but  quit  life's  trouble  and  pain, 
For  aye  in  that  glorious  land  to  remain  ! 

Four  torrents  adown  to  the  level  are  hurled. 
From  a  source  which  intruders  can  never  molest ; 
They  roll  to  the  uttermost  ends  of  the  world, 
To  the  North,  to  the  South,  to  the  East,  and  the  West ; 
And  as  in  their  fury  they  burst  from  the  womb, 
So  they  rush  till  lost  in  eternal  gloom. 

119 


A  MOUNTAIN   SONG. 

Two  pinnacles  leap  into  space  through  the  blue, 

Whose  summits  no  mortal  below  can  descry  ; 

And  there,  in  a  veil  of  auriferous  dew 

Are  the  gambolling  clouds,  those  fair  maids  of  the  sky: 

Alone  their  mysterious  course  they  keep 

Where  no  intruder  from  earth  can  peep. 

And  there  in  her  dignity  poses  the  Queen  ^ 

On  a  throne  which  never  shall  dwindle  away, 

And  her  diamond  crown  with  its  silvery  sheen 

Sheds  over  her  forehead  a  glorious  ray. 

The  volatile  sunbeams  around  her  may  thrill ; 

They  can  gild  her,  but  warmth  they  can  never  instil. 

^  i.e.  The  Glacier. 


1 20 


THE  ALPINE  HUNTER. 

**  But  the  lambs  demand  thy  care, 
Those  young  lambs  so  blithe  and  gay, 
As  the  tender  grass  they  tear 
And  beside  the  streamlet  play." 
**  Mother,  mother,  let  me  go 
To  pursue  yon  mountain  roe." 

*'  But  why  not  the  cattle  mind 
With  thy  horn's  enlivening  strain  ? 
Soft  and  sweet  the  cow-bells  wind, 
Tinkling  o'er  the  wooded  plain." 
"  Mother,  mother,  let  me  go, 
I  must  hunt  that  mountain  roe.** 

*'  Rather  tend  those  flowers  bright 

Which  the  beds  with  odours  fill : 

Does  the  garden  not  invite  ? 

And  'tis  wild  upon  the  hill.'* 

"  Oh  !  the  flowers — they  will  grow, 
Mother,  mother,  let  me  go  !  " 

So  the  youth  a-hunting  went, 

Driven  by  resistless  force, 

And  his  hardy  footsteps  bent 

Up  the  mountain's  darkest  course  : 
And  above  him  o'er  the  fell 
Fled  the  quivering  gazelle. 

121 


THE  ALPINE  HUNTER. 

To  the  rocky  serried  edge 
With  a  certain  foot  she  cling-s, 
And  from  ledge  to  crumbling  ledge 
All  unhesitating  springs  ; 

But  the  lad,  with  eager  mind, 
Bow  in  hand,  is  close  behind. 

She  pursues  the  rugged  trail 

And  the  loftiest  peak  ascends 

Till  the  rocks  behind  her  fail, 

And  her  path  to  safety  ends. 
Bottomless  abyss  below. 
Just  behind  the  cruel  bow. 

She  adjured  the  heartless  man 
With  her  dumb  beseeching  eyes  ; 
But  th'  appeal  is  made  in  vain, 
On  the  string  the  arrow  lies — 

When  from  out  the  vastness  sheer 
See  the  mountain  Wraith  appear  ! 

Thanks  to  his  immortal  might 
Straight  the  trembling  beast  was  free. 
**  Shall  thy  power  to  kill  and  blight 
Mount,"  he  cried,  '*  as  far  as  me  ? 

Why  on  my  dear  creatures  fall  ? 

Surely,  Earth  has  room  for  all !  " 


122 


DITHYRAMB. 

Take  my  word  for  it 

That  the  Gods  never 

Wander  alone. 

If  I  happen  to  come  across  Bacchus  the  jolly, 

Up  runs  little  Cupid  with  simpering  folly, 

And  Phoebus  I  cannot  disown. 

They  come  and  they  come  in  their  heavenly  mirth, 
And  Deities  people  the  mansions  of  Earth. 

How  shall  1  treat  them, 

Being  but  mortal, 

They  from  the  sky  ? 

Gods,  grant  me  a  taste  of  your  being  immortal. 

But  expect  no  return  from  this  transient  portal  ; 

Raise  me  to  Olympus  on  high  ! 

In  Jupiter's  halls  is  true  bliss  for  the  soul — 
Then  fill  up  the  nectar,  and  pass  me  the  bowl ! 

Hebe,  the  goblet ! 

Fill  for  the  poet ; 

In  with  the  wine  ! 

With  heavenly  dew  let  his  eyeballs  be  blinded, 

That  so  of  the  Styx  he  may  not  be  reminded. 

But  think  that  he  too  is  divine. 

The  heavenly  fount  murmurs  glittering  by. 
Consoling  the  bosom  and  clearing  the  eye. 


123 


THE  FOUR  AGES  OF  THE  WORLD. 

The  goblets  are  foaming  with  deep-coloured  wine, 

Right  merry  is  every  guest ; 

When  in  comes  the  Poet  the  party  to  join, 

Thus  adding  to  good — why,  the  best  ; 

For  nectar  itself  can  no  pleasure  inspire 

In  heavenly  circles  deprived  of  the  lyre. 

The  Poet  by  heavenly  grace  is  endued 

With  a  mind  which  all  ages  reflects  : 

Whatever  has  happened  on  earth  he  has  viewed, 

He  can  see  what  the  future  protects  : 

The  earliest  councils  of  heaven  he  shared. 

To  him  the  inscrutable  seed  was  unbared. 

To  fancy  he  gladly  abandons  the  rein 

As  he  looks  on  existence  around  ; 

This  earthly  abode  in  itself  is  a  fane 

To  him — so  the  Muses  expound. 

No  roof  is  so  humble,  no  cottage  so  small 

But  he  pictures  them  full  of  divinities  all. 

And  just  as  that  craftsman,  the  scion  of  Zeus,, 
In  the  circumscribed  space  of  a  shield 
Could  the  heavens  and  earth  and  the  sea  introduce 
In  one  single  harmonious  field, 
So  the  Poet  the  stamp  of  unlimited  space 
Can  impress  on  the  moments  as  onward  they  race. 
124 


THE  FOUR  AGES  OF  THE  WORLD. 

He  comes  from  the  earliest  ages  of  earth, 
When  the  nations  were  youthful  and  green  ; 
And,  a  jovial  traveller  ever  since  birth, 
All  eras  and  peoples  has  seen. 
Four  ages  of  men  have  passed  under  his  eye, 
And  now  to  a  fifth  he  is  ready  to  fly. 

First  Saturn  bore  rule  with  his  justice  and  grace, 

And  day  without  change  followed  day  ; 

Then  flourished  the  shepherds,  an  innocent  race, 

On  whom  not  a  burden  could  weigh. 

They  loved — and  than  love  they  entreated  no  more, 

And  Earth  in  her  bounty  replenished  their  store. 

Then  labour  ensued,  and  bold  mortals  began 

For  monsters  and  dragons  to  seek  ; 

The  mighty  and  conquerors  pressed  to  the  van. 

And  the  powerful  aided  the  weak. 

To  the  banks  of  Scamander  the  battle-cry  swirled, 

But  **  the  Beautiful  "  still  was  the  God  of  the  world. 

But  the  battle  was  ended,  and  victory  came, 

And  the  gentle  grew  out  of  the  strong  ; 

And  the  Gods  stood  forth  ;  and  with  single  acclaim 

The  Muses  broke  out  into  song. 

But  the  spirit  of  Phantasy  never  could  last — 

Tis  an  age  that  is  gone — 'tis  a  dream  of  the  past. 

The  Gods  from  their  thrones  in  the  heavens  were  torn, 
Down  clattered  their  temples  and  fanes  ; 
And  the  Virgin's  Son  to  the  world  was  born 
To  heal  man's  sins  and  pains. 
The  lusts  of  the  senses  were  grappled  and  fought. 
And  man,  to  his  comfort,  took  refuge  in  Thought. 
125 


THE  FOUR  AGES  OF  THE  WORLD. 

And  the  days  of  voluptuous  pleasures  are  run, 

Young  blood  from  its  folly  desists  ; 

Abased  are  the  penitent  friar  and  nun, 

The  warrior  takes  to  the  lists. 

If  life  in  its  aspect  were  rugged  and  wild. 

Love,  at  least,  remained  gentle  and  charming  and  mild 

The  Muses  a  sanctified  altar  divine 

All  unostentatiously  dressed  ; 

Then  flourished  whatever  was  noble  and  fine 

In  woman's  immaculate  breast. 

And  the  glory  of  song  was  encouraged  anew 

By  the  lays  of  the  troubadour  loving  and  true. 

Then  so,  an  united  harmonious  pair. 

Let  Woman  and  Poet  combine 

The  girdle,  with  equal  and  scrupulous  care, 

Of  Beauty  and  Justice  to  twine. 

Where  Love  is  judiciously  mated  with  Song 

It  is  able  the  heyday  of  life  to  prolong. 


126 


PUNCH  SONG. 


Elements  four 
Bound  in  one  thrall, 
Counterfeit  life, 
Constitute  all. 

Juice  of  the  lemon — 
Squeeze  it  and  pour  ! 
Sharpness  of  life 
Is  the  real  core. 

Now  let  the  sugar, 
Mellow  and  sweet. 
Soften  the  bitter, 
Temper  its  heat. 

Now  for  the  water  ! 
Fill  up  the  bowl. 
Water  well  measured 
Mixes  the  whole. 

Dashes  of  spirit 
It  will  require  : 
Nothing  like  spirit 
Life  to  inspire  ! 

Ere  it  evaporates 
Quaff  it  in  haste  ! 
Only  when  strong 
It  refreshes  the  taste. 


127 


TO  MY  FRIENDS. 

'Tis  true,  dear  friends — and  no  one  will  deny — 
That  fairer  times  than  ours  have  long  gone  by  Ü 
A  nobler  people  here  has  had  its  birth, 
As — did  a  jealous  history  not  teach — 
A  thousand  stones  would  testify  in  speech, 
Hewed  from  the  very  bosom  of  the  earth. 
But  those  majestic  times  have  passed  away, 
And  we  remain — the  present  day  is  ours. 
That  favoured  race  has  mouldered  in  decay. 
And  we  who  live  must  exercise  our  powers. 

Happier  spheres  there  are  in  which  to  dwell, 

My  friends,  as  travellers  for  ever  tell, 

Than  this  our  own  perplexed  and  weary  land. 

But  if  by  Nature  we  are  shorn  of  much. 

At  least  our  hearts  are  quickened  by  the  touch 

Of  Art  bestowed  with  no  reluctant  hand. 

'Tis  true,  from  us  the  laurel  may  recoil, 

The  myrtle  shrink  before  our  Winter's  grip, 

But  merry  vines  spring  freely  from  the  soil 

To  deck  our  brows  with  goodly  fellowship. 

In  the  great  life  without  the  tumults  swell 
Where  continents  their  treasures  buy  and  sell! 
Along  the  Thames,  the  market  of  the  world. 
All  that  is  costly  there  you  may  behold, 
And  ships  arriving  with  their  canvas  furled,, 
And  ruling  everywhere — the  God  of  Gold. 
128 


TO  MY  FRIENDS. 

Not  upon  turbid  and  torrential  streams 
The  mirrored  image  of  the  sunshine  plays  ; 
But  on  the  silent  brook  with  gentle  beams 
In  friendly  warmth  twinkle  the  glancing  rays. 

More  dignified  than  in  our  Northern  lands 
The  beggar  at  the  '*  Angel  Portal  "  stands, 
For  what  he  looks  on  is — Eternal  Rome  ! 
Essence  of  beauty  floats  upon  the  air, 
And  Peter's  great  incomparable  dome 
To  heaven  within  a  heaven  may  compare. 
Yet  Rome  with  all  her  glory  and  her  pride 
Is  but  the  sepulchre  of  days  gone  by  : 
Only  in  healthy  plants  can  life  abide, 
Such  as  can  sip  the  moments  as  they  fly. 

Greater  events  and  things  there  may  have  been 

Than  in  this  narrow  life  of  ours  are  seen  : 

New  ! — Why,  beneath  the  sun  is  nothing  new  ! 

All  that  is  worthiest  of  every  age 

Is  duly  mustered  on  this  worldly  stage, 

And  passed  deliberately  in  review. 

The  life  of  yesterday  recurs  to-day, 

And  Phantasy  alone  is  ever  young  : 

That  only  never  suff'ers  from  decay 

Which  into  actual  being  never  sprung. 


129 


PUNCH  SONG. 
TO  BE  SUNG  IN  THE  NORTH. 

On  the  slopes  of  lofty  mountains 
Where  the  long-drawn  Summers  shine, 
By  the  generous  radiance  quickened, 
Nature  bears  the  golden  vine. 

Her  mysterious  operations 
Are  concealed  from  mortal  sight. 
Her  intention  is  unfathomed, 
And  inscrutable  her  might. 

Sparkling  like  a  son  of  morning. 
Flashing  like  a  fiery  stream, 
From  the  cask  the  liquor  rushes 
Crystal  clear,  with  ruddy  gleam. 

It  rejoices  all  the  senses, 
And  the  timid  heart  inspires  ; 
Calm  and  soothing  hopes  induces. 
Strengthens  life  with  new  desires. 

In  our  Northern  clime  the  sunbeams 
Spiritless  and  slanting  lie  ; 
Leaves  indeed  they  tinge  with  colour. 
But  the  fruit  they  cannot  dye. 

Yet  the  North  must  live — and  living. 
Life  with  pleasure  must  combine  ; 
How  then  solve  the  knotty  problem, 
Grapeless,  to  dispose  of  wine  ? 
130 


PUNCH  SONG. 

Pale  and  feeble  is  the  liquor 

We  laboriously  prepare  ; 

That  which  Nature's  soul  provideth 

Sparkles  ever  bright  and  fair. 

Let  us  gaily  drain  the  goblet, 
Even  though  the  wine  be  sad  ; 
Art  itself,  which  came  from  heaven, 
Once  an  earthly  being  had. 

All  the  majesty  of  power 
Is  enlisted  on  her  side  ; 
With  her  own  creative  spirit 
She  can  new  from  old  provide. 

By  her  overwhelming  forces 
Elements  apart  are  riven, 
And  her  artificial  altar 
Emulates  the  light  of  heaven. 

To  the  happy  favoured  islands 
Far  away,  the  bark  she  steers, 
And  the  fruits  of  Southern  regions 
Carries  to  our  Northern  spheres. 

Let  us  see  an  allegory 
In  this  rich,  inspiring  juice  : — 
Given  will,  and  given  power. 
What  can  mortal  not  produce  ? 


131  K2 


A  TROOPER'S  SONG. 


To  horse  with  you,  comrades  ;  saddle  and  mount  I 

To  the  battlefield's  freedom  away  ! 

To  the  field  where  a  hero  is  still  of  account, 

And  the  valorous  still  has  his  day. 

On  nobody  else  can  a  man  rely, 

He  must  trust  to  himself  to  do  or  die. 

From  the  world  true  freedom  has  disappeared, 

But  masters  and  slaves  remain. 

With  guile  and  deceit  it  is  domineered 

By  men  of  inferior  strain. 

Who  looks  death  straight  in  the  face,  is  free — 

The  warrior  bold — and  none  but  he  ! 

The  troubles  of  life  he  hurls  aside  ; 

By  fears  and  cares  unvexed, 

Right  on  his  fate  content  to  ride. 

If  not  one  day,  on  the  next ; 

And  if  on  the  next — why,  the  present  employ, , 

And  what  remains  of  our  time  enjoy. 

His  lot  by  heaven  is  gilded  with  mirth. 
He  need  not  struggle  and  toil  ; 
The  servitor  probes  in  the  bowels  of  earth 
And  labours  in  search  of  spoil. 
He  shovels,  as  long  as  he  lives,  for  pelf. 
And  ends  by  digging  a  grave  for  himself^ 
132 


A  TROOPER'S  SONG. 

The  trooper  and  his  redoubtable  horse 

A  terrible  glamour  invests. 

While  the  wedding-  banquet  pursues  its  course^ 

They  come  as  unbidden  guests. 

His  wooing  is  short,  not  with  gold  he  charms, 

But  his  love  he  imposes  by  force  of  arms. 

Why  is  the  maiden  so  pale  and  sad  ? 

No  questions  !     Let  it  pass  ! 

No  regular  home  has  he  ever  had 

For  the  love  of  an  honest  lass. 

His  wandering  lot  gives  no  repose. 

And  his  heart  is  intact  wheresoever  he  goes. 

Then,  boot  and  saddle,  my  hearties  !     Come, 

Your  breasts  to  the  battle  square 

While  your  youthful  forces  bubble  and  hum 

And  the  fighting  spirit  is  there  ! 

Think  not  to  compass  a  good  old  age, 

Long  life  is  none  of  your  heritage. 


133 


A  NADOWESSIAN  DIRGE. 

There  he  sits  upon  his  mat, 
Balanced  bolt  upright, 
Sitting  as  afore  he  sat, 
While  he  saw  the  light. 

But  where  is  the  mighty  gripe, 
Where  the  hearty  blast 
Which  he  used  from  out  his  pipe 
Spiritwards  to  cast  ? 

Where  is  that  clear  eagle  eye, 
Which  in  eager  chase 
Could  the  reindeer's  track  descry, 
Through  the  dew  drops  trace  ? 

Where  those  limbs  which  could  not  flag, 
Toiling  through  the  snow  ? 
Strong  he  was  as  antlered  stag, 
Swift  as  mountain  roe. 

Where  those  arms  so  strong  of  yore 
The  mighty  bow  to  twang  ? 
Life  is  out :  he  breathes  no  more, 
His  arms  all  listless  hang. 

Happy  he,  for  he  is  gone 
Far  beyond  the  snow. 
Where  the  crops,  in  kindly  sun, 
Unassisted  grow. 

134 


A  NADOWESSIAN  DIRGE. 

Birds  in  all  the  bushes  trill, 
In  the  woods  is  game  ; 
Fishes  all  the  waters  fill, 
Frolicsome  and  tame. 

Now  in  spirit-land  he  feeds, 
While  we  linger  here 
Only  to  recount  his  deeds 
And  prepare  his  bier. 

Come,  your  farewell  presents  bring. 
Let  your  dirges  plead  ; 
Bury  him  with  everything 
He  may  like  or  need. 

Place  the  hatchet  'neath  his  hair 
— Hatchet  of  the  strong — 
And  yon  juicy  haunch  of  bear — 
For  the  way  is  long. 

And  the  keenly  tempered  blade 
Which  with  dexterous  blow 
Scalp  and  skin  together  flayed 
From  his  whilom  foe. 

Put  a  little  colour  in, 
Place  it  in  his  hand, 
So  that  he  may  dye  his  skin 
In  the  Spirit-land. 


135 


THE  FEAST  OF  VICTORY. 

Fallen  were  the  walls  of  Troy, 
Priam's  town  in  ashes  lay  ; 
And  the  victor  Greeks  with  joy 
Bearing  all  their  spoils  away, 
To  the  stately  vessels  wound 
On  the  Hellespontine  shore, 
Happy  people,  homeward  bound, 
To  their  glorious  Greece  once  more. 

Into  songs  of  triumph  break  ! 

Westward  we  will  plough  the  foam. 

Turn  the  ships,  and  let  them  take 

Their  rejoicing  course  for  home. 

And  in  long  despondent  row, 
Mournful,  sat  the  Trojan  fair  ; 
Beat  their  breasts  in  bitter  woe, 
Pale,  and  with  dishevelled  hair. 
With  the  sounds  of  revelry 
Mingled  their  dejected  song 
As  they  told  with  flowing  eye 
Of  their  sacred  country's  wrong. 
''  Fare  thee  well,  beloved  soil. 
And  the  homes  where  we  were  bred ! 
After  strangers  we  must  toil — 
Ah  !  How  happy  are  the  dead  !  " 

To  the  Gods  who  dwell  on  high 
See  how  Calchas'  altar  smokes  ; 
Pallas,  who  can  vivify 
Towns,  or  raze  them,  he  invokes. 
136 


THE  FEAST  OF  VICTORY. 

Neptune  too,  whose  billows  fling 
Stormy  girdles  round  the  land, 
Zeus,  the  terrifying  King, 
With  the  aegis  in  his  hand. 

Now  the  long  drawn  strife  is  past, 

Patient  force  has  won  its  prize ; 

Time  has  worked  its  will  at  last, 

And  the  city  captive  lies. 

Atreus'  son,  the  army's  lord, 
Counted  up  the  dismal  tale 
Of  the  peoples  who  had  poured 
Erst  into  Scamander's  vale. 
Sorrow  o'er  his  visage  spread, 
Drooped  his  kingly  eye  with  grief, 
For  of  those  whom  once  he  led 
Few  remained  around  their  chief. 
Break,  then,  into  joyful  song. 
Ye  who  cherish  thoughts  of  home, 
Ye  who  still  are  blithe  and  strong ! 
For,  alas  !  not  all  may  come. 

**  Nor  all  those  who  safe  return 
Shall  enjoy  their  native  land  : 
Where  their  own  dear  altars  burn 
May  be  clenched  the  murderer's  hand. 
Spared  in  battle,  many  a  one 
Lives  to  fall  by  felon's  stroke." 
— Thus  Ulysses'  warning  tone, 
Prompted  by  Athene,  spoke. 

Happy  he  whose  spouse  is  true, 

Keeps  his  household  chaste  and  pure ; 

Woman  longs  for  something  new, 

And  her  faith  is  never  sure. 

137 


THE  FEAST  OF  VICTORY. 

And  Atrides  swells  with  pride 

As  he  marks  his  captive's  charms, 

Presses  closer  to  her  side, 

Clasps  her  in  his  favoured  arms. 

Evil  deeds  cannot  prevail. 

Vengeance  dogs  each  grave  offence,. 

Gods  in  heaven  never  fail 

Even  justice  to  dispense. 
Evil  must  to  evil  lead, 
Zeus  with  his  avenging  hand 
Punishes  with  lightning  speed 
The  inhospitable  band. 

*'  Favoured  mortals  well  may  vie," 
Cries  Oileus'  valiant  son, 
"To  extol  the  gods  on  high 
Seated  on  their  heavenly  throne  ! 
Fortune's  gifts  at  random  pour. 
Here  and  there  by  chance  they  rain  ; 
For  Patroclus  is  no  more, 
While  Thersites  lives  again. 

Since,  then,  Fortune's  careless  wheel 

Heedlessly  her  favours  gives. 

He  may  truly  favoured  feel 

Who  a  lucky  lot  receives  ! 

"  War  sweeps  all  the  best  away  ! 
Where,  my  brother,  Greeks  are  met, 
Never  shall  thy  name  decay. 
None  thy  powers  shall  forget. 
When  the  Grecian  navies  burned. 
Thine  the  arm  which  brought  relief,^ 
Yet  the  glorious  prize  was  earned 
By  yon  sly,  accomplished  thief. 

138 


THE  FEAST  OF  VICTORY. 

Gently  may  thine  ashes  rest ! 
Never  foe  thy  might  compelled. 
Anger  sweeps  away  the  best, 
Ajax  'twas  who  Ajax  felled." 

There  it  was  that  for  his  sire 
Pyrrhus  poured  the  golden  wine  : 
**  Could  I  to  all  lots  aspire, 
Father,  I  would  covet  thine. 
'Mid  the  gifts  of  earthly  life 
None  there  is  so  great  as  fame  ; 
When  the  body  falls  in  strife, 
Still  abides  the  glorious  name. 
Thy  renown,  by  poets  penned, 
Hero,  never  shall  decay  : 
True,  this  earthly  life  may  end. 
But  the  dead  remain  for  aye." 

*'  Lest  the  bards  in  duty  fail, 

Lest  the  vanquished  'scape  their  lays, 

I,"  quoth  Diomed,  *'  my  tale 

Testify  in  Hector's  praise  ! 

Fighting  valiantly,  he  fell 

For  his  sacred  altar's  flame  : 

If  the  victor's  fame  excel, 

Still  was  his  the  nobler  aim  ! 

For  his  hearth  and  home  he  died, 

Verily  his  people's  shield, 

Till  his  direst  foes  decide 

Honour  to  his  name  to  yield." 

And  now  Nestor,  jolly  soul, 
Who  three  generations  saw, 
Hands  the  leaf-embowered  bowl 
To  the  weeping  Hecuba : 
139 


THE  FEAST  OF  VICTORY. 

"  Drink  of  this  :  it  will  restore, 

And  forget  thy  grievous  smart ; 

Wonderful  is  Bacchus'  power 

To  relieve  a  tortured  heart. 
Drink  of  this  :  it  will  restore, 
And  forget  thy  grievous  smart ; 
Wonderful  is  Bacchus'  power 
To  relieve  a  tortured  heart. 

Even  Niobe,  who  fell 

To  the  wrath  of  Heaven  a  prey, 

Could  her  sufferings  dispel, 

Tasting  of  the  fruity  spray. 

While  the  everlasting  stream 

To  the  lips  in  ardour  leaps, 

Sorrow  flies — is  but  a  dream, 

Borne  away  in  Lethe's  deeps  ! 
While  the  foaming,  living  stream 
To  the  lips  in  ardour  leaps, 
Sorrow  flies — is  but  a  dream. 
Borne  away  in  Lethe's  deeps  !  " 

Godlike,  with  transfigured  brow, 

See  the  prophetess  arise  ! 

As  she  mounts  the  vessel's  prow. 

Smoking  homesteads  meet  her  eyes  :- 

'*  Life  is  but  a  smokelike  veil  ! 

As  the  wreathing  pillars  wane, 

Earthly  glories  surely  fail, 

And  the  Gods  alone  remain. 

Care  attends  the  horseman's  hand. 
Round  the  ship  misfortunes  weigh 
No  to-morrow  we  command, 
Therefore  live  we  for  to-day  !  " 
140 


THE  LAMENT  OF  CERES. 

Is  this  Spring  upon  the  scene  ? 
Has  the  earth  grown  young  again  ? 
Sunlit  hills  are  clothed  with  green, 
Loosened  is  the  ice-bound  chain. 
Mirrored  in  the  azure  rill, 
Smile  serene  and  cloudless  skies  ; 
Zephyr's  breath  has  lost  its  chill, 
Dainty  flowerets  ope  their  eyes. 
Warbling  notes  the  bushes  cheer. 
Cries  the  nymph  in  dulcet  key  ; 
All  the  blossoms  reappear. 
But  thy  daughter  where  is  she  ? 

By  what  long  and  devious  ways 
Have  I  sought  her  darling  trace  ! 
Titan,  all  thy  piercing  rays 
Have  assisted  in  the  chase. 
Yet  not  one  has  cast  its  eye 
On  the  form  I  love  so  well : 
Daylight,  which  should  all  descry, 
Fails  my  dimness  to  dispel. 
Has  Zeus  seized  her  for  his  own  ? 
Or,  to  her  fair  charms  a  slave, 
Has  grim  Pluto  whirled  her  down 
By  black  Orcus'  dreadful  wave  ? 
141 


THE  LAMENT  OF  CERES. 

Who  upon  that  dismal  strand 
My  misfortunes  will  make  known  ?' 
Oft  the  vessel  leaves  the  land, 
But  it  bears  the  dead  alone  ! 
Ne'er  did  happy  eye  behold 
Light  on  yonder  plains  forlorn  ; 
And  so  long  as  Styx  has  rolled, 
Living  thing  it  ne'er  has  borne. 
Thither  many  a  path  descends. 
Never  one  returns  above  ; 
None  those  bitter  tears  commends. 
To  the  Mother's  anxious  love. 

Mothers  sprung  of  Pyrrha's  race,, 
Mortal,  such  indeed  may  brave 
Hades,  and  their  darlings  trace 
Past  the  terrors  of  the  grave. 
Only  Jove's  immortal  heirs 
May  not  see  that  gloomy  land  ; 
Blest  are  they  whom  Fate  forbears? 
To  oppress  with  vengeful  hand. 
Plunge  me  in  the  night  of  nights 
Far  from  Heaven's  bright  domain  ; 
Reck  not  of  the  Goddess'  rights. 
For  they  mean  a  mother's  pain. 

Where  she  sat  in  joyless  state 
On  her  spouse's  gloomy  throne. 
There  did  I,  a  suppliant,  wait 
'Mid  the  silent  shades,  unknown. 
Ah  !  her  eye  with  tearful  trace 
Strains  through  those  unlighted  halls,, 
Wanders  vaguely  into  space. 
Never  on  her  mother  falls, 
142 


THE  LAMENT  OF  CERES. 

Till  at  length  her  love  discerns — 
To  each  other's  breasts  they  fly ! 
Orcus'  self  with  pity  yearns, 
Marks  with  sympathetic  sigh. 

Empty  hope  !  Unheeded  cry  ! 
In  their  order,  calm  and  sure 
Steadily  the  days  roll  by  ; 
Jove's  decrees  shall  aye  endure. 
From  that  dark  forbidding  sight 
Turns  he  his  anointed  head  ; 
Once  enwrapt  in  yonder  night. 
She  is  distant  as  the  dead — 
Till  that  darkling  stream  shall  glow 
'Neath  Aurora's  roseate  spell ; 
Till  fair  Iris  strains  her  bow 
Right  athwart  the  realms  of  Hell. 

Surely,  something  must  remain  ! 
Some  convincing  proof  that  space 
Real  love  can  not  restrain, 
Of  her  hand  some  gentle  trace  ! 
Does  no  love-knot  wind  its  thread 
Round  the  mother  and  her  own  ? 
'Twixt  the  living  and  the  dead 
Has  no  bond  of  union  grown  ? 
Not  too  deeply  must  I  sigh, 
Still  she  bides  within  my  reach  ; 
For  the  Gods  who  dwell  on  high 
Grant  at  least  a  common  speech  ! 

When  Spring's  children  pass  away, 
When  before  the  Northern  air 
Leaf  and  floweret  decay, 
Stands  the  tree  bereft  and  bare ; 
143 


THE  LAMENT  OF  CERES. 

Then  the  germs  of  life  I  shake 
From  Vertumnus'  bounteous  horn,, 
Praying  Styx  the  seed  to  take 
And  return  the  golden  corn. 
Sad,  I  hide  it  in  the  ground, 
Lay  it  on  my  darling's  breast, 
That  a  language  it  may  found 
And  my  love  and  grief  attest. 

When  the  Hours  in  rhythmic  dance 
Bring  the  Spring-time  in  their  train,, 
Sunshine  will  dispel  the  trance. 
What  was  dead  will  rise  again. 
Germs  concealed  from  human  eye 
In  the  chilly  womb  of  Earth, 
'Neath  the  genial,  tinted  sky 
Revel  in  a  second  birth. 
Heavenward  as  the  stem  ascends 
So  the  root  in  darkness  hides  ; 
Styx  with  ethers  justly  blends, 
Night  with  day  its  care  divides. 

For  the  attributes  they  share 
Equally  of  life  and  death  ; 
From  Cocytus'  banks  they  bear 
Welcome  tones  with  gentle  breath. 
Though  a  prisoner  she  be 
In  the  dreary  depths  below, 
Spring's  young  blossoms  call  to  me. 
And  this  healing  balm  bestow  : — 
*'Tell  that  where  the  shadows  reign,. 
Where  no  golden  sunbeams  thrill, 
Love  its  might  can  yet  maintain, 
Loving  hearts  are  faithful  still." 
144 


THE  LAMENT  OF  CERES. 

Hail,  ye  children  of  the  field, 
Children  born  of  pastures  new  ! 
Your  auspicious  cup  shall  yield 
Draughts  of  nectar's  purest  dew. 
In  the  sunshine  ye  shall  play. 
Bathed  in  Iris'  fairest  beams  ; 
And  your  leaves  I  will  array 
In  Aurora's  golden  gleams. 
Whether  Spring  or  Autumn  reign, 
Cheering  glow,  or  withered  leaf, 
Let  no  tender  heart  disdain 
Or  my  pleasure  or  my  grief. 


145 


THE  ELEUSINIAN  FESTIVAL. 


Fashion  the  ears  in  a  chaplet  of  gold 
Deftly  commingled  with  cornflowers  blue  ! 
The  Queen  is  approaching  :  her  presence  behold 
And  every  eye  may  rejoice  at  the  view. 
She  comes  all  inordinate  habits  to  tame, 
And  man  with  his  fellow  in  peace  to  compose, 
The  wandering  nomads  of  earth  to  reclaim, 
And  the  peaceable  comforts  of  home  to  disclose. 

In  the  rocky  clefts  concealed 
Humble  Troglodytes  lie  low  ; 
Nomad  races  let  the  field 
Perish,  as  they  errant  go. 
Armed  with  deadly  bow  and  spear, 
Strides  the  hunter  through  the  land. 
Woe  to  strangers  who  appear, 
Cast  upon  that  fateful  strand  ! 

Ceres  visited  that  shore, 
Vainly  seeking  for  her  child  ; 
But  a  dreary  face  it  bore, 
And  the  land  was  stern  and  wild. 
Ne'er  a  roof  its  refuge  gave 
As  in  anxious  quest  she  trod, 
And  no  temple's  architrave 
Testified  an  honoured  God. 
146 


THE  ELEUSINIAN  FESTIVAL. 

No  refreshing  corn  or  fruit 
Her  distressing  need  await. 
Human  bones  the  fanes  pollute, 
And  the  altars  violate. 
Wheresoe'er  her  footsteps  turned 
Nought  but  sorrow  could  she  scan, 
And  her  lofty  spirit  burned, 
Grieving  for  the  fall  of  man. 

Can  this,  then,  be  man  indeed, 
Fashioned  on  our  godlike  lines  ? 
This  the  well-appointed  breed 
Upon  which  Olympus  shines  ? 
Did  he  not  in  trust  receive 
Earth  for  his  appointed  home  ? 
Is  this  all  he  can  achieve — 
Desolate,  abroad  to  roam  ? 

Will  no  God  his  pity  lend  ? 
None  of  the  celestial  choir 
An  almighty  arm  extend 
To  uplift  him  from  the  mire  ? 
True,  high  Heaven  little  heeds, 
Looking  on  terrestrial  woe, 
But  my  anguished  spirit  bleeds 
Human  grief  and  pain  to  know. 

And,  that  men  be  men  indeed. 
All  their  troubles  let  them  share 
With  their  mother  Earth,  and  plead 
For  her  kind  maternal  care  ; 
Reverence  th'  eternal  laws 
Which  control  the  flight  of  time. 
And  the  moon,  who  knows  no  pause 
In  its  orbit's  course  sublime. 

147  L2 


THE  ELEUSINIAN  FESTIVAL. 

Soft  she  sweeps  the  mists  aside 
Which  her  silver  glory  shroud, 
And  in  all  her  heavenly  pride 
Bursts  upon  th'  uncultured  crowd. 
All  the  guzzling  horde  is  there, 
Revelling  without  control. 
And  the  sacrifice  they  bear 
In  a  foul  blood-reeking  bowl. 

Horror-struck,  she  turns  away 
From  the  bloody,  sickening  sight  : 
Tiger-feasts  no  charm  convey 
To  a  god-like  appetite. 
Fairer  gifts  a  God  beseem — 
Fruits  which  Nature's  Autumn  yields  ; 
Those  who  dwell  on  high  esteem 
Offerings  from  the  simple  fields. 

And  she  tears  the  murderous  shaft 
From  the  hunter's  clumsy  hand, 
And  with  its  bloodthirsty  haft 
Graves  a  furrow  in  the  sand. 
Then  she  gathers  from  her  crown 
Just  one  germ-containing  cell ; 
In  the  furrow  lays  it  down 
Into  generous  growth  to  swell. 

Till,  adorned  with  blades  of  green,. 
All  the  earth  transfigured  lies. 
Nodding  with  a  golden  sheen 
Like  a  wood  before  her  eyes. 
And  she  blessed  the  smiling  Earth 
As  the  earliest  sheaves  she  tied, 
Chose  the  landmark  as  her  hearth^ 
And  in  intercession  cried  :  — 
148 


THE  ELEUSINIAN  FESTIVAL. 

**  Father  Zeus,  who  dwellst  in  space, 

Ruler  of  the  Gods  on  high. 

Give  a  token  that  thy  grace 

On  this  offering  will  lie  ! 

On  these  people  pitying  glance, 

People  who  ignore  thy  name  ; 

Wake  them  from  their  grievous  trance 

That  their  God  they  may  acclaim  !  " 

And  his  sister's  earnest  prayer 
Rose  to  Zeus  enthroned  on  high. 
Crashed  his  thunders  through  the  air, 
Jagged  lightnings  tore  the  sky. 
Whirling  round  the  altar  roared 
Angry  crackling  tongues  of  fire, 
And  above  the  eagle  soared 
In  its  stately  circling  spire. 

Then  prone  at  the  feet  of  that  ruler  divine 
The  rapturous  crowds  in  an  ecstasy  throng. 
And  Humanity's  sentiments  tend  to  refine 
The  barbarous  spirits  untutored  so  long. 
Their  murderous  weapons  behind  them  are  cast, 
Their  darkened  perception  grows  clear  and  serene 
And  the  heavenly  lesson  they  welcome  at  last 
From  the  eloquent  Hps  of  the  glorious  Queen. 

Then  the  Deities  descend, 
Each  from  his  exalted  throne  ; 
Themis  marks  the  furrows'  end, 
And  directs  the  limit-stone. 
Under  her  impartial  hand 
Every  man  receives  his  share. 
And  the  bidden  Stygian  band 
Witness  to  her  justice  bear. 
149 


THE  ELEUSINIAN  FESTIVAL. 

/y^^[\6.  the  godlike  smith  behold, 
/ir      Son  of  Zeus,  whose  facile  skill 
Bronze  or  plastic  clay  can  mould 
Slaves  to  his  artistic  will. 
Deft  his  tongs  and  pincers  clang, 
Art  his  bellows  doth  endow  : — 
From  his  potent  hammer  sprang 
First  the  civilising  plough. 

And  in  front  with  ponderous  spear 
See  !  Minerva  takes  her  post, 
Speaks  in  accents  trumpet-clear 
And  arrays  the  godlike  host. 
Hers  it  is  to  found  and  build, 
Hers  protection  to  afford. 
Scattered  worlds  may  be  instilled, 
Thanks  to  her,  with  warm  accord. 

And  the  heavenly  band  she  leads 
Through  the  wide-extended  plain  ; 
Landmarks,  wheresoe'er  she  treads, 
Marking  boundaries,  remain. 
"    And  her  measured  links  she  throws 
Round  the  emerald-capped  hill ; 
And  the  torrent,  as  it  flows. 
Learns  an  ordered  bed  to  fill. 

Nymphs  and  Oreads  who  pursue 
Artemis  the  bold  and  swift, 
Form  a  merry  retinue 
As  their  hunting  spears  they  lift. 
All  advance  to  lend  their  aid. 
And  the  joyful  tumult  swell. 
As  the  pine  trees'  darksome  glade 
With  their  crashing  tools  they  fell. 

150 


THE  ELEUSINIAN  FESTIVAL. 

Then  from  green  and  sedgy  deeps 
Rises  the  weed-bearing  God, 
And  his  raft  complaining  creeps 
Where  he  marks  the  goddess  nod» 
Now  the  Hours  in  light  attire 
Their  accustomed  task  attend, 
And  the  modest  trunks  acquire 
Shape,  and  to  persuasion  bend» 

And  the  Sea-God  too  appears — 
With  his  trident's  awful  thrust, 
Granite  masses  he  uptears 
From  the  Earth's  tenacious  crust  ; 
Swings  them  in  his  mighty  fist 
Like  some  trifling  airy  ball. 
And,  with  Hermes  to  assist. 
Crowns  the  battlemented  wall.^ 

Then  Apollo's  golden  strains 
Conjure  Harmony  sublime  ; 
Music  weaves  its  subtle  chains, 
True  in  melody  and  time. 
And  the  Muses  join,  and  sing 
With  their  measured  ninefold  tone. 
Till,  entranced,  together  spring, 
Unassisted,  stone  and  stone.^ 

Cybele  the  wide-winged  gate 
Fashions  with  experienced  hand, 
Cunning  locks  does  she  create. 
Bolts  and  bars  by  her  are  planned. 

1  I.e„  The  Wall  of  Troy. 

2  An  allusion  to  the  building-  of  Thebes. 


THE  ELEUSINIAN  FESTIVAL. 

Quickly  by  immortal  aid 
Finished  is  the  wondrous  pile  ; 
Festal  scenes  its  walls  pervade, 
And  with  pomp  its  temples  smile. 

And  anon  the  godlike  Queen  ^ 
With  a  myrtle  crown  proceeds, 
And  the  youth  of  fairest  mien 
To  the  fairest  damsel  leads. 
Venus  and  her  darling  boy 
Deck  the  first  assorted  pair, 
And  the  Gods  with  bounties  cloy 
These  first  objects  of  their  care. 

On  the  new-fledged  burghers  press 
To  the  hospitable  gate, 
While  celestial  bodies  bless 
And  confirm  their  proud  estate. 
Ceres  at  Zeus'  altar  tends 
And  the  priestly  office  plies, 
Hands  in  intercession  bends. 
And  to  all  the  people  cries  : — 

**  Freedom  seek  the  beasts  of  prey, 
Free  th'  Immortals  dwell  in  space ; 
Be  their  passions  what  they  may, 
Nature  will  assert  its  place. 
But  a  man  can  only  thrive 
By  reliance  on  his  kind  ; 
He  must  live  as  others  live 
Strength  and  liberty  to  find." 

^  I.e.  Juno. 


THE  ELEUSINIAN  FESTIVAL. 

Fashion  the  ears  In  a  chaplet  of  gold 

Deftly  commingled  with  cornflowers  blue  ! 

The  Queen  is  approaching  :  her  presence  behold  ! 

And  every  eye  may  rejoice  at  the  view. 

'Tis  she  who  has  taught  us  our  homesteads  to  prize 

And  she  who  has  reconciled  man  with  his  mate ; 

To  her  let  our  songs  in  festivity  rise — 

The  beautiful  mother,  indulgent  and  great. 


153 


THE  RING  OF  POLYCRATES. 


Upon  the  battlements  he  stood, 
Regarding  in  complacent  mood 

Samos,  o'er  which  he  ruled  in  state. 
"All  this  is  subject  to  my  sway," 
To  Egypt's  king  he  'gan  to  say  ; 

*' Confess  that  I  am  fortunate." 

**  Of  heavenly  favours  great  thy  share  ! 
And  those  who  once  thine  equals  were 

Now  recognise  thy  sceptre's  might. 
But  one  there  lives  t'avenge  them  all  ; 
Thee  fortunate  I  can  not  call 

While  he  keeps  guard  in  angry  spite.' 

Ere  from  his  lips  the  words  had  died, 
Subservient  at  the  Tyrant's  side, 

A  herald  from  Miletus  bows  : 
*'  Let  sacrificial  fumes  ascend, 
And  joyous  leaves  of  laurel  blend, 

My  lord,  around  thy  radiant  brow. 

**Thy  foe  lies  stricken  by  a  spear. 
And  Polydorus  sent  me  here — 

Thy  faithful  chief — the  news  to  tell.'* 
So  speaking  from  a  bowl  he  drew, 
And  offered  to  their  shudd'ring  view, 

A  bloody  head  they  both  knew  well. 

154 


THE  RING  OF  POLYCRATES. 

The  king  recoiled  with  horror  struck  : — 
**  I  warn  thee  still,  beware  of  luck, 

And,"  he  pursued  with  anxious  glance, 
**  Remember  that  thy  squadron  braves 
The  fickle  winds  and  treacherous  waves. 

Of  loss  by  storm  how  great  the  chance  I  ** 

And  scarcely  had  he  said  the  word 
Ere  sounds  of  revelry  were  heard, 

And  cheering  from  the  harbour  borne. 
Rich  laden  from  a  foreign  land. 
To  the  familiar  native  strand 

The  many-masted  ships  return. 

Astonished  seems  the  royal  guest  : — 
**Thy  luck  to-day  is  manifest, 

Yet  tremble  for  its  constancy. 
The  Cretan  hosts  in  arm^d  swarms 
Threaten  thy  land  with  war's  alarms, 

And  even  now  their  van  is  nigh." 

And  ere  the  words  had  'scaped  his  lips, 
Signals  of  joy  pervade  the  ships, 

And  shouts  of  *'  Victory  "  ascend  i 
'*  Delivered  are  we  from  the  foe, 
The  storm  has  laid  the  Cretans  low, 

Triumph  !     The  war  is  at  an  end." 

Amazed,  his  guest  the  tidings  hears. 
*' Truly,  thy  fortune  great  appears  !    . 

Yet  still  I  tremble  for  thy  joy. 
I  fear  the  jealous  wrath  of  Heaven, 
For  never  yet  to  man  was  given 

Pure  happiness  without  alloy. 
155 


THE  RING  OF  POLYCRATES. 

"  I  also  have  been  fortunate  ; 
Each  stroke  of  my  despotic  state 

Has  met  with  heav'nly  favour  kind. 
But  when  1  saw  my  chosen  heir 
God-stricken,  I  became  aware 

That  fortune  leaves  a  debt  behind. 

*' Wouldst  thou  immunity  from  grief? 
Then  pray  the  Gods,  in  kind  relief, 

To  shade  thy  luck  with  sorrow's  tone. 
No  man  true  happiness  has  gained 
On  whom  the  generous  Gods  have  rained 

Untempered  benefits  alone. 

*'  And  if  the  Gods  thy  prayer  deny 
Upon  a  friend's  advice  rely, 

And  call  misfortune  to  thy  side. 
Whate'er  thine  heart  accounts  most  dear 
Amidst  thy  treasures,  bring  it  here 

And  hurl  it  into  yonder  tide." 

Oppressed  with  fear,  replies  his  host : — 
"  Of  all  the  wealth  our  isle  can  boast, 

This  ring  in  first  esteem  I  keep. 
An  this  can  calm  the  Furies'  rage, 
The  peril  of  my  luck  assuage, 

I  here  consign  it  to  the  deep." 

And  as  the  morrow's  daylight  broke, 
Thus  to  the  Prince  a  fisher  spoke. 

With  pleasure  sparkling  in  his  eyes  : — 
*'  My  lord,  this  noble  fish  behold ! 
Never  its  like  did  net  enfold. 

To  thee  I  humbly  give  my  prize." 

156 


THE  RING  OF  POLYCRATES. 

But  when  the  cook  his  knife  applied, 
In  loud  astonishment  he  cried, 

And  ran  the  marvel  to  disclose. 
**  The  ring,  Sire,  which  thou  used  to  wear 
I  found  in  yonder  fish  :  'tis  here. 

Truly,  thy  luck  no  limit  knows." 

Exclaims  the  horror-stricken  guest  : — 
**  With  thee  no  longer  can  I  rest, 

Thy  friendship  I  no  longer  own. 
The  Gods,  'tis  clear,  thy  death  design  ; 
I  must  away,  or  hazard  mine." 

He  spoke,  embarked,  and  straight  was  gone. 


157 


THE  CRANES  OF  IBYCUS. 

Where  chariot-course  and  strife  of  song, 
Unite  the  Greeks  in  joyous  throng     \ 
On  Corinth's  isthmus,  thither  plods    \ 
Ibycus,  darhng  of  the  Gods.  \ 

(With  melody  of  noblest  worth  \ 

His  voice  Apollo  had  endued.)  | 

With  lightsome  step  he  sallies  forth  ) 

From  Rhegium  in  godlike  mood.  / 

Now  peeping  from  its  fastness  high 
Corinth  attracts  the  traveller's  eye  ; 
His  faltering  footsteps  he  inclines 
To  pierce  Poseidon's  grove  of  pines. 
Here  all  is  still,  save  that  great  bands 

Of  swarming  Cranes  his  course  attend, 
Which  towards  more  balmy  Southern  lands. 

Their  course  in  grizzly  squadrons  wend. 

*'  I  bid  you  welcome,  friendly  host, 
Whose  escort  brought  me  to  the  coast ; 
Your  presence  is  a  happy  sign, 
Your  lot  is  on  a  par  with  mine. 
Alike  from  distant  climes  we  come, 

And  seek  alike  some  friendly  roof — 
May  we  both  find  a  generous  home 

Which  from  no  stranger  holds  aloof ! " 

158 


THE  CRANES  OF  IBYCUS. 

With  blithesome  step  his  way  he  takes 
Athwart  the  wood's  most  central  brakes, 
When  suddenly  two  murderous  foes 
The  narrow  path  before  him  close. 
To  the  unequal  strife  he  springs  ; 

But  sinks  his  arm  with  battle  spent ; 
Cunning  upon  the  lyre's  soft  strings, 

His  hand  no  bow  had  ever  bent. 

He  summons  men  and  Gods  to  aid. 
But  all  in  vain  his  prayers  are  made  ; 
How^ever  clear  his  voice  may  ring. 
Here  it  can  touch  no  living  thing. 
**  Then  must  I  here  forsaken  die. 

On  foreign  soil,  and  undeplored, 
A  prey  to  basest  villainy. 

And  none  to  wield  th'  avenging  sword  ?  " 

/And  as  he  totters,  stricken  sore, 
Behold  !  the  Cranes  with  winged  roar 
Pass  by ;  and  though  his  sight  is  dim, 
He  hears  their  near  discordant  scream. 
**  By  you,  ye  Cranes,  above  my  head. 

Unless  some  other  voice  arise. 
Be  this,  my  murder's  story,  spread  !  " 

— And  having  charged  them  thus,  he  dies 

The  naked  corpse  is  duly  found  ; 
And  though  defaced  by  many  a  wound, 
His  host  in  Corinth  soon  perceives 
"The  form  of  him  whose  loss  he  grieves. 
**  And  is  it  thus  that  I  must  find 

The  friend,  of  whom  I  thought  but  now 
'That  soon  the  minstrel's  crown  would  wind, 

Well  earned,  around  his  radiant  brow  ?  " 
159 


THE  CRANES  OF  IBYCUS. 

Deep-sorrowing,  listens  every  guest 
Assembled  at  Poseidon's  feast ; 
All  Greece  the  dreadful  story  thrills, 
Each  sep'rate  heart  with  anguish  fills. 
Straight  to  the  President  repair 

The  people  in  tumultuous  mood  ; 
T'avenge  the  dead  must  be  his  care, 

Avenge  it  in  the  murderer's  blood.      \ 


But  what  the  sign  which,  in  this  throng 
Of  surging  people  borne  along 
Eager  to  see  the  splendid  games, 
The  guilty  miscreant  proclaims  ? 
Did  robbers  strike  the  felon  blow, 

Or  some  more  treach'rous  curious  hands? 
— That  Helios  alone  may  know. 

Whose  eye  this  earthly  stage  commands. 

E'en  now  perhaps  amidst  the  Greeks 
With  calm  and  impious  step  he  sneaks, 
And  while  th'  avenger  gives  him  time 
Enjoys  the  produce  of  his  crime. 
P'raps  at  the  very  temple's  gate 

He  flouts  the  Gods  in  wantonness, 
Or  lurks  among  the  crowd  who  wait 

Through  the  theatre  doors  to  press. 

For  tier  on  tier  the  people  pack 
Until  the  timbers  groan  and  crack  ; 
From  every  quarter  far  and  near 
The  Grecian  tribes  are  waiting  here, 
Low  murmuring  like  the  ocean's  roar. 

The  very  building  seems  to  spread, 
As  though  its  curving  ranks  would  soar 

Into  the  azure  overhead. 
1 60 


THE  CRANES  OF  IBYCUS. 

Who  tells  the  races,  names  the  names 
Of  those  who  come  to  watch  the  games  ? 
From  Theseus'  city,  Aulis'  strand, 
From  Phocis,  and  from  Sparta'^  land, 
From  distant  Asia's  torrid  clime, 

From  all  the  islands  of  the  sea. 
They  seek  upon  this  stage  sublime 

The  Chorus'  wailing  melody. 

Who,  after  ancient  precedent, 

With  slow  and  measured  footsteps  went, 

Issuing  from  behind  the  scene. 

And  moving  round  with  solemn  mien. 

So  do  no  mortal  women  stride. 

No  mortal  parents  gave  them  birth, 
Monstrous  their  bodies  seem  beside 

The  feeble  puny  sons  of  earth. 

Mantles  of  black  their  loins  conceal, 
And  in  their  fleshless  fingers  reel 
Torches,  whose  dancing  fitful  glow 
Their  gleam  on  bloodless  faces  throw. 
And  where  on  human  brows  the  hair 

Enfolds  the  head  with  light  caress. 
The  foulest  snakes  and  vipers  stare, 

And  close  their  poisoned  bellies  press. 

With  ghastly  strains,  in  circle  prim, 
Anon  they  chant  their  doleful  hymn, 
Which  seems  the  life's  blood  to  control, 
And  chain  each  evildoer's  soul. 
Confounding  sense,  deluding  heart, 

The  Furies  sing  with  rising  fire. 
Making  the  inmost  marrow  smart ; 

Nor  will  they  brook  the  rival  lyre. 

i6i  M 


THE  CRANES  OF  IBYCUS. 

*■*  Happy  the  man  who,  free  from  sin, 
Rejoices  in  a  conscience  clean  ! 
Not  him  our  vengeance  would  chastise, 
Life's  path  before  him  open  lies. 
But  woe,  aye  woe,  to  him  we  bring 

Who  bears  the  secret  stain  of  blood  ! 
Remorseless  to  his  feet  we  cling. 

Creatures  of  night,  a  gruesome  brood. 

**  And  should  he  put  his  trust  in  flight, 
Have  we  not  wings  of  passing  might  ? 
From  far  we  hurl  our  fatal  coils. 
The  fugitive  is  in  our  toils. 
We  hunt  with  wrath  that  never  fades, 

Repentance  serves  him  all  too  late, 
We  hound  him  to  the  very  shades. 

Nor  even  there  our  rage  abate." 

Anon  they  dance  in  rhythmic  stave  : 

And  silence,  such  as  shrouds  the  grave, 

Falls  upon  all  the  company, 

As  though  the  Deity  were  nigh. 

Then,  after  ancient  precedent,  ^ 

Around  the  stage  with  solemn  mien 
With  slow  and  measured  steps  they  went. 

And  disappeared  behind  the  scene. 

And  between  truth  and  wonderment 
Each  quaking  heart  with  doubt  is  rent, 
And  worships  the  tremendous  might 
Which,  all  unseen,  protects  the  right  ; 
Unfathomable,  unexplained, 

By  which  the  threads  of  Fate  are  spun, 
Deep  in  the  human  heart  contained. 

Yet  ever  hiding  from  the  sun. 
162 


THE  CRANES  OF  IBYCUS. 

Suddenly,  from  the  highest  tier 

A  solitary  voice  and  clear 

Is  heard  to  cry  : — "  Timotheus, 

"  Behold  the  Cranes  of  Ibycus  !  " 

And  as  he  speaks  the  place  grows  dim, 

Obscured  and  darkened  is  the  sky, 
As,  marshalled  close  in  order  trim, 

The  whirling  host  of  Cranes  sails  by. 

♦'  Of  Ibycus  !  "     The  well-known  name 
Stirs  each  excited  heart  to  flame. 
As  ocean's  following  billows  rise. 
From  lip  to  lip  the  question  flies  : — 
*'  Of  Ibycus  ?   whom  we  bewail, 

Who  fell  beneath  the  murderer's  hand  ! 
What  is  this  man,  what  means  his  tale. 

What  bode  these  Cranes  in  threat'ning  band? 

And  round  and  round  the  question  goes 
Until  a  flash  of  insight  shows 
The  truth  to  every  heart : — ''  Give  heed  I 
This  is  the  watchful  Furies'  deed  ! 
Avenged  is  the  pious  Bard, 

The  murderous  caitiff  stands  confessed, 
— Seize  him,  and  place  him  under  guard 

Who  cried,  and  him  who  was  addressed  !  " 

How  gladly  w^ould  he  now  disown 

His  words,  how  gladly  choke  them  down  i 

'Tis  vain  !  their  faces'  pale  dismay 

The  guilty  criminals  betray. 

Before  the  Judge  they  straight  are  haled, 

A  judgment  seat  becomes  the  stage  ; 
JBy  their  own  lips  the  truth  detailed. 

They  fall  before  th'  avenging  ragec 

163  M  2 


HERO  AND  LEANDER. 

\ 

Seest  thou  where  yon  hoary  towers. 
Each  upon  the  other  lowers, 

Glittering  in  the  sun  like  g"old, 
Where  the  Hellespont  upwells, 
Rushing  through  the  Dardanelles, 

'Gainst  its  craggy  portals  rolled  ? 
Dost  thou  hear  the  surges  roar 

On  the  boulders  as  they  break  ? 
Europe  they  from  Asia  tore, 

But  true  love  they  cannot  shake. 

Hero's  and  Leander's  hearts 
Quivered,  smitten  by  the  darts 

Of  the  mighty  God  of  Love. 
She  was  decked  with  Hebe's  grace, 
He  behind  the  rousing  chase 

O'er  the  mountains  used  to  rove.. 
But  their  parents'  deadly  feud 

Severed  the  affianced  pair  ; 
And  the  fruit  of  love  they  viewed 

Out  of  reach  in  blank  despair. 

There  on  Sestus'  castled  steep. 
Where  its  waves  in  thunders  deep 

Hellespont  projects  in  foam, 
Sat  the  maid  in  sadness  lost. 
Gazing  at  Abydos'  coast. 

Where  the  dear  one  had  his  home^ 
164 


HERO  AND  LEANDER. 

Ah  !  to  that  too-distant  strand 

No  good-natured  bridge  is  thrown^ 

No  kind  vessel  is  at  hand  : 

Yet  Love  found  the  way  alone. 

Through  the  labyrinthine  maze 
Love  her  steps  can  always  trace, 

Fools  with  wisdom  can  endow  ; 
Trains  the  restive  beast  to  pull, 
Harnesses  the  fiery  bull 

To  the  adamantine  plough. 
Styx  itself  with  ninefold  stream 

Her  approach  can  not  restrain. 
Love  her  darling  will  redeem 

E'en  from  Pluto's  drear  domain.. 

So  'mid  this  confusion  dire 
With  the  spur  of  keen  desire 

Did  she  urge  Leander's  mood. 
As  the  sunlight  downward  crept 
Straight  the  hardy  swimmer  leapt 

Into  Pontus'  gloomy  flood, 
Burst  the  waves  with  mighty  blows, 

Wrestling  towards  the  sacred  shore 
Where  the  beckoning  torch-light  glows 

Beaming  in  an  upper  floor. 

Happy  he,  that  Love's  embrace 
Shall  remove  each  chilling  trace 

Of  his  hard  contested  fight  ; 
Happy  he  for  whom  the  charms 
Of  those  tender  gentle  arms 

Are  reserved  as  his  by  right 

165 


HERO  AND  LEANDER. 

Till  Aurora's  golden  crest 

Warns  him  from  his  dreams  to  wake, 
Quit  the  warm  and  loving  breast, 

Seaward  his  return  to  make. 

Thirty  times  the  changing  sun 
On  their  stolen  joys  had  shone, 

Smiling  on  the  favoured  pair. 
Quick  the  nights  of  pleasure  flew, 
Till  th'  Immortals  curious  grew 

(Ever  young  and  ever  fair). 
He  alone  knows  perfect  bliss 

Who  forbidden  fruit  has  clasped. 
On  the  brink  of  Hell's  abyss 

Has  the  heavenly  clusters  grasped. 

Hesperus  pursued  his  way 
With  Aurora  night  and  day. 

Yet  the  lovers  failed  to  spy 
The  array  of  fallen  leaves, 
Saw  not  from  its  frozen  caves 

Cruel  winter  drawing  nigh, 
And  as  with  the  dwindling  days 

Shorter  shrift  the  daylight  ran, 
Unto  Zeus  they  rendered  praise 

For  the  nights'  protracted  span. 

Now  one  measure  marked  the  flight 
Of  the  hours  of  gloom  and  light. 

And  the  maiden  from  her  steep 
Watched  the  coursers  of  the  sun 
Their  appointed  orbit  run, 

Gazed  impatient  o'er  the  deep. 
i66 


HERO  AND  LEANDER. 

And  the  sea  lay  calm  and  still 
Like  a  mirror  clear  of  film, 

Not  a  ruffle,  not  a  thrill 

Stirred  in  all  that  crystal  realm. 

Dolphin  shoals  in  merry  train 
Gambolled  in  the  silver  main, 

Scarcely  to  the  eyesight  lost  ; 
And  in  dark  and  grizzly  guise 
From  the  depths  anon  would  rise 

Tethys'  parti-coloured  host. 
They  the  lover's  stratagem, 

They  alone  could  have  revealed  ; 
But  the  tell-tale  words  to  stem 

Hecate  their  lips  had  sealed. 

And  she  loved  the  glorious  sea, 
And  in  tones  of  flattery 

To  the  element  exclaims  : 
*'  Lovely  God,  thou  couldst  not  lie  ; 
Him  as  traitor  I  defy. 

Who  thine  honesty  defames. 
False  the  race  of  men  may  be. 

Stony-cold  a  father's  heart. 
But  from  treachery  thou  art  free, 

Thou  canst  feel  the  lover's  smart. 

**  'Prisoned  by  this  dismal  stone, 
I  had  lived  and  mourned  alone, 

Wasting  in  eternal  grief. 
Had  not  thy  kind  surface  borne. 
Bark  and  bridge  alike  forsworn. 

One  kind  friend  to  my  relief. 

167 


HERO  AND  LEANDER. 

Awful  are  thy  depths  profound, 
'Neath  thy  blows  the  granite  reels, 

But  on  Love  thou  ne'er\  hast  frowned, 
Courage  to  thy  heart  appeals. 

"Thou  the  sea-God,  even  thou, 
Feltst  the  might  of  Eros'  bow. 

When  the  golden  ram  in  flight 
Helle,  fairest  of  the  fair. 
With  her  brother,  sometimes  bare 

O'er  the  sea  which  owns  thy  might. 
Quickly  by  her  charms  ensnared, 

Thou  didst  from  thy  depths  arise, 
Tore  her  from  the  back  she  shared. 

And  descended  with  thy  prize. 

*'  Now  immortal,  she  abides 
In  the  grotto  'neath  the  tides, 

Goddess  at  a  God's  right  hand  ; 
Prone  to  aid  a  lover's  flame. 
Potent  thy  desires  to  tame. 

Swift  to  guide  a  bark  to  land. 
Helle,  lovely  goddess,  hear, 

Holy  one,  to  thee,  I  pray  : 
Help  my  darling's  course  to  steer 

Safely  hitherward  to-day«" 

Darkness  on  the  deep  descends  : — 
Now  her  beacon  she  suspends 

Beaming  from  its  lofty  height, 
That  the  well-known  sign  may  lead 
Her  dear  wanderer  in  his  need 

Surely  through  the  dismal  night. 
i68 


HERO  AND  LEANDER. 

In  the  distance  soughs  the  blast, 
Black  and  stern  the  billows  curl. 

Star  by  star  is  overcast, 

And  the  thunder-clouds  unfurl. 

Now  o'er  Pontus'  watery  plain 
Night  had  fallen,  and  the  rain 

From  the  sky  in  torrents  leapt. 
Lightnings  crackled  through  the  air. 
And  the  winds  came  rushing  there 

From  the  vaults  wherein  they  slept. 
Vast  abysses  open  wide 

In  the  surface  of  the  deep, 
Till  its  jaws  no  longer  hide 

Secrets  they  were  meant  to  keep. 

'**  Woe  is  me,"  exclaimed  the  maid, 
As  to  mighty  Zeus  she  prayed  ; 

*  *  Ah  !  what  did  I  dare  to  ask  ! 
What  if  my  request  was  heard, 
And  my  dear  one  has  not  feared 

To  attempt  his  wonted  task  ! 
AH  the  sea  birds,  wheeling  round, 

Homeward  bear  with  anxious  wing, 
Storm-tossed  vessels  seaward  bound 

Gladly  to  the  haven  cling. 

**  'Tis  too  true  !  his  dauntless  breast 
Dared  again  the  dreadful  test. 

By  a  mighty  God  deceived. 
From  the  loving  vows  he  swore 
When  we  met  to  meet  no  more, 

Now  by  death  he  is  relieved. 
169 


HERO  AND  LEANDER. 

At  this  moment,  it  may  be, 

All  the  tempest's  rage  he  braves, 

And  alas  !  the  cruel  sea 

'Whelms  him  in  its  maddened  waves. 

'*  Fickle  Pontus,  thy  repose 
From  deceitfulness  arose. 

Specious  wsis  thy  glassy  rest. 
Peacefully  thy  billows  lay 
Till  my  darling  went  astray 

On  thy  false  and  lying  breast. 
Now  that,  on  his  journey  sped. 

Thoughts  of  going  back  are  vain,^ 
On  his  poor  deserted  head 

All  thy  terrors  thou  dost  rain  !  " 

Louder  still  the  tempest  screamed. 
Mountain-high  the  billows  seemed, 

As  each  wild  pursuing  surge 
Seething  o'er  the  boulders  broke  ; 
E'en  the  ships  with  frames  of  oak 

Perished  on  that  iron  verge. 
Soon  extinguished  by  the  wind 
Was  the  torch  which  marked  the  land. 
Horror  on  the  ocean  reigned, 

Horror  brooded  o'er  the  strand. 

Aphrodite  she  adjured 
Her  assistance  to  afford 

The  terrific  waves  to  lull. 
To  the  angry  winds  she  bowed. 
And  the  richest  offerings  vowed, 

E'en  a  golden  horned  bull. 
170 


HERO  AND  LEANDER. 

Every  God  did  she  implore, 
Every  Goddess  did  she  pray, 

Pacifying  oil  to  pour 

On  the  waters'  dread  array. 

**  Hark,  to  my  despairing  cries  ; 
From  thine  azure  halls  arise. 

Oh  !  Leucothea  divine  ! 
To  the  sailor  in  distress 
Oft  in  succour  döst  thou  press, 

Like  a  guardian  angel  shine. 
Ah  !  to  him  extend  thy  veil ; 

Thy  mysterious  web  can  save, 
Like  a  sheath  of  charmed  mail, 

Him  who  wears  it  from  the  grave  I " 

And  the  angry  storms  subside, — 
Heavenward  Eos'  coursers  glide 

On  their  upward  journey  free. 
Like  a  burnished  mirror  spread, 
Ocean  seeks  its  former  bed ; 

Gaily  smile  both  wind  and  sea» 
Milder  now  the  billows  wash 

Up  against  the  rock-girt  land, 
And  in  sport  with  gentle  plash 

Cast  a  corpse  upon  the  sand. 

Yes,  'tis  he,  and  even  now. 
Lifeless,  he  has  kept  his  vow  ! 

One  sad  glance  the  truth  reveals. 
From  her  lips  falls  no  lament. 
Not  one  fruitless  tear  is  spent  ; 

Blank  and  cold  her  face  she  steels. 
171 


HERO  AND  LEANDER. 

Fixt  her  eye  in  silence  dwells 
On  the  sky  and  ocean  bleak, 

And  a  noble  colour  swells 

O'er  her  wan  and  bloodless  cheek. 

"  I  perceive  your  cruel  hand, 
Ye  dread  powers,  who  demand 

All  your  rights  and  none  abate. 
Now  my  earthly  course  is  run. 
Yet  true  fortune  I  have  won. 

And  enjoyed  a  happy  fate. 
Living,  in  the  holy  shrine 

Thine  high-priestess  I  have  been  ; 
Dying,  my  last  breath  is  thine. 
Aphrodite,  mighty  Queen  !  " 

So,  with  robes  in  wild  array 
From  th'  embattled  tower  grey 

Straight  she  leaps  into  the  wave. 
Far  into  his  drear  domain 
Wafts  the  God  their  corpses  twain, 

And  himself  supplies  their  grave. 
Then,  contented  with  his  deed, 

Gently  ebbing,  back  he  goes  ; 
And  th'  eternal  streams  proceed 

From  the  urn  which  ceaseless  flows. 


172 


CASSANDRA. 


Mirth  through  Trojan  halls  was  ringing 

Ere  succumbed  the  fortress  bold  ; 
Hymns  of  joy  the  bards  are  singing 

To  the  harpists'  strings  of  gold. 
Men  their  weapons  are  forsaking, 

Thoughts  of  battle  lay  aside, 
Peleus'  mighty  son  is  taking 

Priam's  daughter  for  his  bride. 

Laurel  every  brow  is  binding, 

And  the  crowd  in  surging  bands 
To  the  holy  fanes  is  winding 

Where  the  Thymbrian  altar  stands. 
Vaguely  humming,  wildly  heaving. 

Sweeps  the  Bacchanalian  host 
Down  the  lanes  and  alleys,  leaving 

One  sad  heart  in  sorrow  lost. 

Joyless  'mid  the  joy  prevailing, 

Silent,  did  Cassandra  rove. 
And  from  human  presence  quailing, 

Sought  Apollo's  laurel  grove. 
In  the  forest's  dark  recesses 

Found  the  Priestess  a  retreat. 
Tore  the  fillet  from  her  tresses, 

Crushed  it  grimly  'neath  her  feet. 
173 


CASSANDRA. 

**  Happiness  in  ample  measure 

To  all  other  hearts  is  weighed  ; 
My  old  parents  find  new  pleasure, 

Gay  my  sister  stands  arrayed. 
But  o'er  me  there  ever  lowers 

Gloom,  all  sweet  illusion  flies, 
And  I  see  these  hoary  towers 

Crumble  with  prophetic  eyes. 

**  I  can  see  a  torch-light  glowing, 

But  'tis  not  in  Hymen's  hand ; 
Up  to  heaven  I  see  it  growing, 

But  no  sacrificial  brand. 
Feasts  I  see  in  preparation, 

Then  th'  approaching  God  I  feel. 
And  with  horrid  fascination 

Mark  the  blows  he  grieves  to  deaL 

*' And  they  mock  my  bitter  anguish^ 

And  they  cavil  at  my  grief. 
All  alone  my  heart  must  languish. 

Solitude  my  one  relief. 
By  no  glad  acquaintance  greeted. 

Scorned  by  every  joyous  band, 
Truly,  I  am  sore  entreated, 

Harsh  Apollo,  by  thine  hand. 

*'Why  should  I — ah  !  cruel  mission — 

Thy  dark  oracles  expound. 
And  unfold  my  prescient  vision 

To  a  town  in  darkness  bound  ? 
Why  should  I  see  prematurely 

Evils  I  can  not  allay? 
Fate's  decrees  are  fashioned  surely, 

What  we  fear  we  can  not  stay 
174 


CASSANDRA. 

'*'  Is  it  well,  impending"  terror 

To  expose,  the  veil  to  raise  ? 
Human  life  is  noug-ht  but  error, 

Knowledge  only  Death  conveys. 
Take,  ah  !  take  this  penetration 

From  my  eyes  which  probe  too  deep. 
Ill  it  suits  my  mortal  station 

Secret  thy  dread  truths  to  keep. 

**  Give,  ah  !  give  me  back  my  blindness, 

Let  me  in  the  gloom  rejoice  ! 
I  have  sung  no  human  kindness 

While  the  mouthpiece  of  thy  choice. 
True,  the  future  thou  dost  grant  me, 

But  the  present  says  me  nay. 
Sere  is  life  which  should  enchant  me  : 

Take  thy  cursed  gift  away  ! 

**  Never  have  my  locks  been  plaited 

In  their  bridal  garb  again 
Since  my  life  I  consecrated 

To  thy  melancholy  fane. 
Youth  for  me  was  void  of  gladness, 

Grief  and  pain  were  all  my  share. 
And  my  dear  ones'  every  sadness 

Brought  my  gentle  heart  despair. 

■**See,  my  playmates  are  contented. 

All  around  me  loves  and  lives  ; 
Joy  is  everywhere  presented. 

Mine  the  only  heart  that  grieves. 
Spring  brings  me  no  satisfaction 

Though  the  earth  its  glories  cheer. 
Who  in  life  can  find  distraction 

If  beneath  its  depths  he  peer  ? 
175 


CASSANDRA. 

**  E'en  in  her  deluded  yearning, 

Blest  Polyxene  I  hold, 
Who  the  noblest  Greek  is  burning- 

In  her  bridal  clasp  to  fold. 
Proudly  is  her  bosom  heaving. 

Scarce  her  rapture  she  conceals  ; 
And,  in  her  fond  dream  believing. 

For  no  heavenly  boon  appeals. 

**  And  I  too  have  been  permitted 

On  my  chosen  one  to  gaze. 
Marked  the  suppliant  glance  which  flitted 

From  his  eye  with  loving  blaze. 
Nought  my  spouse  from  me  should  sever^ 

Toying  in  my  home  serene  : — 
But  a  Stygian  shade  would  ever 

Nightly  thrust  itself  between. 

**  All  her  pale-faced  spectres  yonder 

Dark  Proserpina  doth  bring. 
And  where'er  my  footsteps  wander 

Hordes  of  ghosts  around  me  cling. 
In  the  sports  of  childhood  nimbly 

Gambolling,  my  path  they  chain 
In  a  horrid,  grim  assembly  ! 

Never  can  I  smile  again  ! 

**  Lo  !  the  blade  is  elevated. 

And  the  murderous  eyes  I  see  ; 
By  my  terror  fascinated, 

If  I  would,  I  can  not,  flee. 
And  I  can  not  look  behind  me. 

Calmly  seeing,  hearing  all ; 
Conscious  of  the  fates  which  bind  me 

In  an  alien  land  to  fall. 
176 


CASSANDRA. 

Still  her  doleful  words  were  ringing 

When  a  murmuring  clamour  spread, 
From  the  distant  temple  springing  : — 

Thetis'  mighty  son  lay  dead  ! 
Eris  shakes  her  snaky  tresses, 

All  the  Gods  in  haste  are  gone, 
And  the  angry  storm-cloud  presses 

On  devoted  Ilion. 


»77  N 


THE  HOSTAGE : 

OR, 

DAMON  AND  PHINTIAS. 

On  Dionysius  Damon  glared  ; 
A  dagger  his  mantle  contains  : 
The  guardians  threw  him  in  chains. 
**  Varlet,  for  whom  was  this  dagger  prepared  ?  " 
The  Tyrant  exclaimed,  ''  What  hast  thou  dared? 
"  To  remove  the  Tyrant  I  meant !  " 
**  On  the  cross  thou  shalt  repent !  " 

And  he  straightly  replied  :  "  I  am  ready  to  die, 

For  life  I  do  not  pray  ; 

Yet  would  I  crave  delay. 
For  three  days'  grace  I  would  humbly  apply 
My  sister's  marriage  to  sanctify  ; 

A  hostage  I  leave  my  friend  ; 

Slay  him  if  I  fail  to  attend." 

Then  smiled  the  King  with  cunning  base, 

And  after  a  pause  said  he  : 

''Three  days  I  grant  to  thee  ; 
But  know  that  unless  I  see  thy  face 
Within  that  time  at  this  very  place. 

Thy  punishment  shall  be  stayed, 

By  him  the  penalty  paid." 

178 


THE  HOSTAGE. 

To  his  friend— '*  The  King  ordains,"  quoth  he, 

*'  My  life's  blood  shall  atone 

For  the  evil  I  have  done  ; 
Yet  three  days'  grace  he  will  not  deny 
My  sister's  marriage  to  sanctify  : 

Do  thou  go  bail  for  me 

Till  I  come  to  set  thee  free." 


His  friend  embraced  him,  but  never  spoke, 
Then  hastened  his  person  to  yield, 

While  Damon  plunges  afield. 

And  ere  the  third  red  morning  broke 
His  sister  was  joined  in  the  holy  yoke. 

And  he  turns  with  anxious  soul 

To  keep  his  stern  parole. 


Then  down  from  heaven  the  waters  pour, 
The  springs  burst  out  of  the  hills 
And  swell  the  streams  and  ghylls  : 
With  quivering  steps  he  reaches  the  shore 
To  find  that  the  bridge  exists  no  more  ; 
The  arch  has  given  way. 
Lost  in  the  thundering  spray. 


Helpless  he  wanders  along  the  strand  ; 

In  vain  he  strains  his  eyes. 

And  raises  despairing  cries  ; 
But  never  a  boatman  lifts  his  hand 
To  take  him  across  to  the  wished-for  land. 

No  ferryman  will  dare 

Tempt  such  a  mad  career. 

179  N  2 


THE  HOSTAGE. 

Down  on  the  bank  he  falls  with  a  groan 
And  to  Zeus  he  raises  his  prayer  : — 
**  Ah  !  Bid  the  torrent  forbear  ! 
The  hours  fly  by,  'tis  already  noon, 
And  unless  before  the  descending  sun 
In  the  city  I  can  be 
My  friend  must  die  for  me." 


But  with  rising  fury  the  current  strives, 

Billow  gives  billow  chase, 

And  the  hours  are  flitting  apace. 
Distracted  with  anguish,  his  courage  revives 
And  into  the  furious  waters  he  dives, 

And  swims  with  a  mighty  arm. 

Saved  by  the  God  from  harm. 


And  he  hastens  forward  on  reaching  land, 

Thanking  the  kindly  God  ; 

When  sudden  there  bursts  on  the  road 
Out  of  the  darksome  thicket  at  hand, 
Barring  his  path,  a  nefarious  band. 

Whose  threatening  clubs  delay 

The  wanderer's  hurried  way. 


'*  What  would  ye  ?  "  he  cries  in  tones  of  grief; 

'*  My  life,  which  is  all  I  bring, 

Stands  forfeited  to  the  King," 
(And  snatches  the  club  from  the  nearest  thief) 
**  Ah  !  spare  me  to  go  to  my  friend's  relief! " 

— Three  fall  beneath  his  might. 

And  all  the  rest  take  flight. 
i8o 


THE  HOSTAGE. 

And  beneath  the  sun's  unmerciful  brand 

His  wearied  members  quake 

And  his  knees  begin  to  shake. 
"  Oh  !  hast  thou  foiled  the  assassin's  hand 
And  guided  me  safe  through  the  torrent  to  land, 

That  here  I  should  fainting  lie 

While  my  dearest  friend  must  die  ?  " 


But  hark  !  there  suddenly  strikes  on  his  ear 
A  silvery  rippling  sound, 

And  he  searches  round  and  round, 
When  lo  !  from  the  rocks  he  sees  appear 
A  murmuring  spring,  impatient  and  clear, 

And  he  plunges  in  the  pool 

His  burning  limbs  to  cool. 


And  the  sun,  looking  down  through  the  bower  of  green. 

Limns  on  the  glowing  mead 

The  trees'  gigantic  shade, 
When  lo  !  two  hurrying  forms  are  seen 
Pressing  along  with  impatient  mien, 

And  their  words  he  plainly  heard — 

**  The  cross  must  now  be  reared." 


Then  anguish  of  mind  restores  the  use 
Of  his  tottering  limbs,  and  anon 
In  the  beams  of  the  setting  sun 

He  sees  the  towers  of  Syracuse  ; 

When  his  faithful  servant  Philostratus 
Meets  him  in  dire  dismay, 
Hoping  his  path  to  stay. 
i8i 


THE  HOSTAGE. 

**  Ah  !  Back  !  'tis  too  late  to  save  thy  friend, 

But  save  thyself  and  be  wise  ; 

At  this  very  moment  he  dies. 
From  hour  to  hour  did  he  depend 
On  thy  return,  and  had  faith  to  the  end. 

Not  all  the  Tyrant's  scorn 

His  trust  in  thee  could  turn." 


**  And  if  'tis  too  late  to  appear  by  his  side, 

To  save  his  life  too  late, 

In  death  I  will  be  his  mate. 
The  Tyrant  shall  never  declare  in  his  pride 
That  a  friend  by  his  promise  has  failed  to  abide. 

He  shall  slay  me  too,  and  prove 

The  measure  of  sterling  love." 


When  at  even  he  reaches  the  gates  at  last 

The  cross  is  already  raised. 

And  the  gaping  crowd  stands  dazed. 
Already  the  rope  o'er  his  friend  is  cast, 
But  he  elbows  the  mob,  and  crushing  past 

Cries — "  Hangman,  set  him  free  ; 

He  was  but  bail  for  me  !  " 


Then  the  people's  surprise  finds  eager  vent 

As  the  friends  embrace  again 

And  weep  for  joy  and  pain. 
And  there  was  not  an  eye  but  in  tears  was  bent. 
And  the  wonderful  news  to  the  King  was  sent, 

And,  touched  by  a  merciful  thought, 

To  his  throne  he  had  them  brought. 
182 


THE  HOSTAGE 

And  long  he  looked  ere  his  lips  could  frame 

The  words — *'  Your  point  is  gained, 

Behold  in  me  your  friend. 
True  faith,  I  see,  is  no  empty  name  ; 
To  be  your  companion  I  would  claim  ! 

Henceforth  I  only  care 

Your  fellowship  to  share." 


«83 


THE  DIVER. 

**  Is  there  a  knight  or  squire  who  dare 

Dive  into  yonder  abyss  ? 
A  golden  goblet  lies  buried  there, 

Above  it  the  vi^aters  boil  and  hiss. 
Whoever  presents  it  again  to  my  sight 
Shall  keep  it  for  ever  :  I  grant  him  the  right.'* 

Thus  spake  the  King,  and  speaking,  hurled 
The  cup  from  the  cliff  wehere  he  stood, 

Into  the  seething  gulf  which  whirled 
Far  below  in  Charybdis'  flood. 

''Again,  I  demand,  is  there  any  so  bold 

As  to  search  in  these  depths  for  my  goblet  of  gold  ?  " 

Never  a  word  spake  Knight  or  Squire, 

But  stood  with  downcast  eyes  ; 
Nor  does  one  of  the  band  aspire 

To  earn  for  himself  the  golden  prize. 
*'  Is  there  none,"  once  more  the  monarch  cried, 
**  Who  will  venture  to  fathom  the  depths  of  the  tide? 

Yet,  never  a  one  the  silence  broke 

Till  a  noble  Squire  and  proud. 
Hurling  aside  his  girdle  and  cloak. 

Stepped  from  the  ranks  of  the  faltering  crowd  ; 
And  there  was  not  a  witness  of  the  scene 
But  noted  with  wonder  his  gallant  mien. 

184 


THE  DIVER. 

§ 

And  as  he  approached  the  angry  brow 

And  gazed  beneath,  he  saw 
The  flood  which  Charybdis  swallowed  but  now 

Rolling  back  from  her  terrible  maw. 
And  with  the  distant  thunder's  boom, 
Burst  foaming  from  that  dismal  womb. 

It  writhes  and  it  bubbles,  it  curdles  and  seethes, 

Like  water  and  flame  at  bay  ; 
And  billow  on  billow  in  steaming  wreaths 
Break  sky-high  in  eternal  spray. 
— Yet  no  relief : — and  it  seems  that  the  main 
Is  great  with  an  ocean,  yet  labours  in  vain. 

But  at  last  the  tumult  abates,  and  lo  ! 

A  black  and  silent  well 
Gapes  through  the  foam,  and  seems  to  go 

To  the  very  bottom-most  depths  of  Hell. 
And  the  bounding  waves  in  the  pride  of  their  might 
Are  drawn  to  the  vortex,  and  vanish  from  sight. 

Quickly  the  youth,  ere  the  fury  revives, 

Commits  his  soul  to  God  : 
One  cry  of  horror  from  all — he  dives. 

And  disappears  in  the  hurtling  flood. 
The  cruel  jaws  close  over  their  prey, 
Th'  adventurous  swimmer  is  lost  for  aye. 

All  is  still  save  a  hoarse  and  muttering  sound 
Borne  from  the  depths  without  cease  ; 

And  from  lip  to  lip  the  prayer  goes  round  : 
— ''  Noble  young  hero,  rest  in  peace  !  '* 

But  hoarser  and  hoarser  resounds  the  cry, 

And  the  critical  moments  will  never  go  by. 

185 


THE  DIVER. 

If  the  crown  itself  in  the  gulf  were  thrown, 

And  the  finder  should  wear  it  as  King, 
Yet  would  I  not  choose,  for  the  sake  of  the  crown, 

So  dear  a  prize  from  the  deep  to  bring. 
No  living  soul  shall  ever  tell 
What  is  hid  in  the  womb  of  this  watery  Hell. 

Full  many  a  craft  in  yon  terrible  reel 

Has  vanished  beneath  the  wave  : 
But  at  most  some  shattered  mast  or  keel 

Returns  from  the  all-devouring  grave. 
— And  the  sigh  of  the  storm  comes  clearer  and  clearer,, 
The  moan  of  the  tempest  ever  nearer. 

It  writhes  and  it  bubbles,  it  curdles  and  seethes 

Like  water  and  flame  at  bay  ; 
And  billow  on  billow  in  steaming  wreaths 

Break  sky-high  in  eternal  spray. 
And  with  the  distant  thunder's  boom 
Rise  boiling  from  that  dismal  womb. 

—But  see  !  Through  the  darkling  waters  there 

A  something  of  snowy  white  ! 
A  glistening  neck  the  sea  lays  bare, 

And  an  arm  which  wrestles  with  desperate  might. 
— '*  It  is  he  !   In  his  other  hand,  behold  ! 
He  brandishes  gaily  the  goblet  of  gold." 

And  a  deep  and  powerful  breath  he  drew 

As  he  hailed  the  light  of  day. 
And  the  joyful  shout  resounds  anew  : 

— '*  He  is  safe  !   It  cannot  drag  him  away. 
His  arm  has  been  able  his  spirit  to  save 
From  the  boiling  depths  of  the  watery  grave." 

1 86 


THE  DIVER. 

He  lands  :  and  the  people  press  around, 

A  cheering  and  jubilant  ring  ; 
As,  lowly  kneeling  upon  the  ground, 

He  proffers  the  golden  cup  to  his  King. 
The  King  to  his  daughter  makes  a  sign. 
And  she  fills  the  goblet  with  sparkling  wine- 

*'  Long  live  the  King  !  Ah  !  happy  ye 

Who  live  in  this  rosy  light  ! 
It  is  awful  yonder  beneath  the  sea  ! 

To  tempt  the  Gods  can  never  be  righL 
And  never,  I  warn  you,  be  so  bold 
As  to  seek  what  the  Gods  in  their  mercy  withhold. 

*'  With  lightning  speed  I  was  downwards  whirled. 

When  from  a  rocky  seam 
A  counter-torrent  was  upwards  hurled, 

And  I  writhed  in  the  grip  of  a  double  stream. 
And  like  a  top  in  its  dizzy  course, 
Was  hurried  away  by  the  mastering  force. 

**  But  God,  unto  whom  I  fervently  cried 
(As  I  thought)  with  my  latest  breath, 

Showed  me  a  coral  ledge  at  my  side  : 
— I  clutched  it,  and  thus  eluded  death. 

And  there  on  the  rocks  hung  the  goblet  of  gold, 

Which  else  had  descended  to  fathoms  untold. 

**  For  below  me  it  still  lay  fathoms  deep 

In  a  distantf,  purple,  gloom  : 
And  although  the  ear  should  happily  sleep, 

No  rest  for  the  eye  in  that  horrible  tomb ; 
For  Salamanders  and  Dragons  dwell 
Rampant,  there  in  the  jaws  of  Hell. 
187 


THE  DIVER. 

**  Around  in  an  odious  crowd  they  press, 

— And  in  loathsome  masses  sway  ; 
The  Dog-fish,  marvel  of  ugliness, 

The  staring  Cod,  and  the  spiny  Ray  ; 
And,  with  cruel  teeth  full  grinning  at  me. 
The  Shark,  that  ubiquitous  scourge  of  the  sea. 

**  And  there  I  clung,  with  terror  possessed, 

Alone  with  the  hideous  brood  ; 
One  only  living  human  breast 

In  the  midst  of  this  awful  solitude  ; 
Far  from  the  voice  or  help  of  men, 
Deep  interned  in  the  monsters'  den. 

**  And  methought,  in  my  terror,  one  crept  towards  me, 

With  an  hundred  arms  outhung  : 
He  snatched — and  in  my  agony 

I  released  the  coral  to  which  I  clung. 
— Again  I  was  seized  by  the  whirl  in  its  might ; 
But  'twas  well,  for  it  hurried  me  back  to  the  light." 

Almost  bewildered  stood  the  King, 

And  said  :   '  *  The  goblet  is  won  ; 
And  I  promise  thee  also  this  costly  ring 

Enriched  with  many  a  royal  stone, 
If  thou  plunge  again,  and  bring  me  word 
What  visions  the  bottom-most  depths  afford." 

His  daughter  listened  with  anxious  heart. 
And  from  coaxing  lips  came  the  prayer  : 

*'  — Nay,  father,  enough  of  this  terrible  sport, 
He  has  done  for  you  what  none  other  dare. 

And  if  your  keen  mind  further  knowledge  desire, 

*Tis  the  turn  of  the  knights  to  abash  the  young  squire.** 

i88 


THE  DIVER. 

Then  the  monarch  flung  the  cup  amain 

Into  the  whirling  sea. 
**  Bring  me,"  he  cried,  **  the  goblet  again, 

And  I  dub  thee  knight  of  the  first  degree, 
And  this  very  day  thou  shalt  her  embrace, 
As  thy  spouse,  who  now  pleads  with  such  earnest  grace.' 

Then  a  heaven-born  might  possessed  his  soul, 

And  his  eyes  with  ardour  flashed. 
As  over  her  features  the  blushes  stole, 

Then  faded,  and  left  her  pale  and  abashed. 
Such  a  glorious  prize  he  is  bound  to  win. 
— For  life  or  for  death  he  plunges  in. 

The  roaring  breakers  come  and  go 

As  the  thundering  echoes  proclaim  ; 
All  eyes  are  bent  on  the  gulf  below. 

But  the  waves  come  ever  and  ever  the  same. 
Boiling  they  rise,  and  boiling  retire. 

But  none  bears  back  the  gallant  young  squire. 


i89 


THE  KNIGHT  OF  TOGGENBURG. 


**  A  true  sister's  love,  Sir  Knight — 

That  thou  mayst  attain  ; 

But  no  other  love  invite, 

For  'twould  cause  me  pain. 

I  would  see  thee  calm  draw  near, 

Calm  depart  as  well. 

In  thine  eye  I  mark  a  tear  : — 

Why,  I  can  not  tell." 

And  he  hears  in  dumb  distress, 

But  can  scarcely  heed  ; 

And  with  one  intense  caress 

Leaps  upon  his  steed. 

At  his  rigorous  behest 

All  his  Switzers  come, 

Bound  (the  cross  on  every  breast) 

To  the  holy  tomb. 

There  are  feats  of  derring-do 
Wrought  by  heroes'  arms  ; 
And  their  plumes  go  crashing  through 
Unbelieving  swarms. 
And  the  Toggenburger's  name 
Scares  the  pagan  host, 
Yet  no  peace  his  heart  can  claim, 
No  relief  can  boast. 
190 


TH£  KNIGHT  OF  TOGGENBURG. 

For  a  year  he  strove  with  grief, 
Then  could  bear  no  more. 
All  in  vain  he  sought  relief, 
And  his  arms  forswore. 
Lo  !  a  bark  on  Joppa's  strand  : 
Full  her  canvas  swells, 
And  he  hies  him  to  the  land 
Where  his  darling  dwells. 

And  the  pilgrim  knocked  at  last 
At  her  castle  gate. 
Open,  true,  the  gate  was  cast. 
But,  alas  !  too  late. 

For  these  words  his  ears  assail 
As  it  opens  wide  i — 

*' Yesterday  she  took  the  veil, 

Now  is  Heaven's  bride." 

Then  for  aye  he  steals  away 
From  his  fathers'  home, 
Leaves  his  weapons  to  decay, 
Lets  his  courser  roam. 
Quits  his  castle's  lordly  height> 
Wandering  in  despair, 
With  his  noble  limbs  bedight 
In  a  shirt  of  hair. 

Just  a  little  hut  he  rears, 
And  from  thence  he  sees 
Where  the  convent  wall  appears 
'Mid  the  linden  trees. 
From  the  earliest  sunbeam's  slope 
Till  the  evening  glow 
There  he  sits  in  eager  hope. 
Hoping  through  his  woe. 
191 


THE  KNIGHT  OF  TOGGENBURG. 

On  the  cloister  many  an  hour 

Did  his  glances  hang, 

Watching  o'er  his  darling's  bower 

For  the  lattice'  clang  ; 

Till  the  dear  presentment  showed 

Like  some  sculptured  queen, 

And  in  reflex  glory  flowed 

O'er  the  tranquil  scene. 

Then  he  laid  him  down  to  sleep, 

Deadening  his  pain 

With  the  thought  that  dawn  would  peepy. 

Morning  break  again. 

Thus  he  sat  for  years  on  years. 

Hiding  every  pang. 

Only  quickening  his  ears 

For  the  lattice'  clang. 

Till  the  dear  presentment  showed 
Like  some  sculptured  queen. 
And  in  reflex  glory  flowed 
O'er  the  tranquil  scene. 

So  he  sat  till,  on  a  day, 
Passed  his  flickering  breath, 
But  the  lattice  o'er  the  way 
Claimed  his  eyes  in  death. 


192 


THE  FIGHT  WITH  THE  DRAGON. 


Why  is  the  crowd  thus  rushing  down 

The  humming  streets  ?     What  ails  the  town  ? 

Does  conflagration  spread  alarm 

In  Rhodes  ?     Else  why  this  anxious  swarm  ? 

Above  the  surging  people  high 

A  Knight  on  horseback  I  espy  : 

Behind  him  through  the  startled  throng 

Some  monstrous  beast  is  dragged  along. 

It  seems  to  bear  a  dragon's  shape, 

With  alligator's  jaws  agape  ; 

All  press  to  see  th'  unwonted  sight, 

The  dragon  and  the  gallant  Knight. 

A  thousand  voices  cry  with  glee  : 

*nt  is  the  very  dragon,  see  ! 

Who  slew  our  flocks  and  herds  ;  but  now 

This  valiant  Knight  hath  laid  him  low. 

Many  a  one  of  noble  worth 

To  tempt  this  strife  has  sallied  forth, 

But  never  left  the  dreadful  field  : 

All  honour  to  the  victor  yield  !  " 

— Then  the  procession  passes  on 

Up  to  the  convent  of  St.  John, 

Within  whose  grey  and  solemn  gate 

The  Knights  are  met  in  high  debate. 

193  o 


THE  FIGHT  WITH  THE  DRAGON. 

Before  the  noble  master  there 
The  youth  appears  with  modest  air ; 
Behind  him  surges  up  the  crowd, 
And  fills  the  stair  with  uproar  loud. 
— He  broke  the  silence  first,  and  quoth  : 
"  I  have  fulfilled  my  knightly  troth, 
The  dragon  who  laid  waste  the  land 
Is  dead,  the  victim  of  my  hand. 
The  wanderer  may  stroll  again, 
The  herdsman  scour  the  fertile  plain. 
The  pilgrim  to  the  shrine  may  wind 
His  toilsome  path  with  easy  mind." 

Stern  looked  the  Prince,  stern  was  his  tone  : 
**The  herd's  part  was  nobly  done. 
'Tis  valour  which  adorns  the  Knight, 
And  thine  is  proved  unflecked  and  bright ; 
But  say,  in  what  must  first  consist 
His  duty  who  would  war  for  Christ, 
Who  wears  the  cross  upon  his  mail  ?  " 
— And  all  who  heard  him  speak  grew  pale. 
Replied  the  Knight  with  noble  grace. 
Though  bending  low  his  burning  face  : — 
*'  Who  dares  that  glorious  sign  display, 
And  worthily,  must  first  obey." 

"  And  this  first  call,"  the  Prince  replied, 
"  Thine  insolence  has  set  aside. 
The  conflict  under  ban  declared 
Thy  wanton  mood,  my  son,  has  dared." 
— In  modest  tones  exclaimed  the  youth  : 
**  Sire,  judge  me  when  thou  knowst  the  truth, 
For  truly  thought  I  to  fulfil 
The  law's  intention  and  thy  will. 
194 


THE  FIGHT  WITH  THE  DRAGON. 

'Twas  not  in  unconsidered  rage 
I  went  the  monster  to  engage  ; 
By  craft  and  well-conceived  address 
I  fondly  hoped  to  win  success. 

*'  Five  of  our  order,  each  the  boast 
Of  our  religion  had  been  lost, 
Impelled  by  zeal,  when  thy  command 
Forbade  the  strife  to  all  our  band. 
But  all  the  while  my  moody  breast 
With  thirst  for  battle  was  possessed  ; 
Yea,  in  my  dreams  at  dead  of  night 
I  tossed  and  panted  for  the  fight ; 
And  as  the  morning  dawned  again 
And  made  me  conscious  of  my  pain, 
My  heart  with  sullen  wrath  would  swell, 
And  straight  I  vowed  to  break  the  spell. 

**  Then  would  I  ask  myself  this  truth  : 
What  makes  the  man,  adorns  the  youth  ? 
What  did  those  doughty  men  of  old. 
Of  whose  .renown  the  minstrels  told, 
Who  for  their  God's  eternal  fame 
Set  darkened  heathenesse  aflame  ? 
In  their  adventurous  course  they  freed 
The  world  from  many  a  monstrous  breed  ; 
The  lion's  fury  they  assuaged. 
The  Minotaur  in  arms  engaged. 
Eager  their  life's  blood  to  expend 
The  weak  to  help,  the  poor  defend. 

**  But  is  the  Infidel  alone 
By  Christian  sword  to  be  o'erthrown  ? 
Are  none  but  Pagan  Gods  his  foes  ? 
No  !  every  ill  he  must  oppose  ; 

195  O  2 


THE  FIGHT  WITH  THE  DRAGON. 

An  universal  guardian  he 
To  save  the  world  from  tyranny. 
— Yet  must  his  valour  have  recourse 
To  cunning,  wit  must  cope  with  force. 
— So  thinking,  oft  my  steps  I  bent 
Upon  the  monster's  trail  intent ; 
Then,  all  at  once  my  toil  was  crowned, 
And  loud  I  cried  : — *  The  way  is  found  !  * 

**  And  came  to  thee,  and,  Sire,  made  bold 
My  homesick  cravings  to  unfold. 
Thou  heardst  my  prayer  with  favour  kind. 
— Th'  estranging  sea  soon  lay  behind. — 
— Scarce  had  I  reached  my  native  land 
Ere  I  engaged  a  master  hand 
The  dragon's  counterpart  to  frame. 
Each  well-known  lineament  the  same. 
On  short  mis-shapen  feet,  behold  ! 
The  monstrous  carcase,  fold  on  fold  ; 
And  on  his  back  each  glittering  scale 
Protects  him  like  a  sheath  of  mail. 

*'  His  swaying  throat  strains  out  before,. 
Appalling  as  Hell's  very  door, 
His  jaws  their  monstrous  width  display 
As  though  they  hankered  for  their  prey^ 
And  gleaming  in  the  depths  below 
His  teeth  appear  in  threatening  row. 
His  tongue  with  keenest  metal  vies, 
And  lightnings  sparkle  in  his  eyes. 
Where  the  portentous  body  ends 
A  loathsome  serpent's  form  depends, 
And  round  and  round  itself  it  coils 
As  if  some  foe  were  in  its  toils. 
196 


THE  FIGHT  WITH  THE  DRAGON. 

*'  I  formed  it  thus  to  nature  true, 
And  coloured  it  a  grizzly  hue  : 
'Twas  salamander,  dragon,  snake. 
In  one,  from  some  envenomed  brake. 
— Then,  when  the  image  was  complete, 
I  chose  a  brace  of  bull-dogs  fleet, 
Alert  and  sturdy,  of  a  race 
Inured  the  fierce  wild-ox  to  face ; 
And  cheered  them  on  with  blindfold  rage 
The  dreadful  monster  to  engage ; 
To  pin  him  with  each  pointed  fang. 
And  on  his  flanks  remorseless  hang. 

**  And  where  their  teeth  m.ight  best  avail,. 
Upon  the  belly's  lighter  mail. 
There,  in  the  weakest  place,  I  told 
The  dogs  to  fix  their  stubborn  hold. 
Now  would  I  mount  my  Arab  steed, 
(A  courser  of  the  rarest  breed) 
And  ripe  to  hand  my  darts  dispose. 
— Then,  as  my  courser's  mettle  rose. 
Sudden  I  charged,  and  made  him  feel 
The  fury  of  my  spur-shod  heel. 
And  hurled  my  dart  with  fervent  aim 
In  hope  to  pierce  the  giant  frame. 

"  My  frightened  steed  might  prance  and  rear 
And  champ  his  bit  in  natural  fear. 
The  hounds  might  shirk  the  dreadful  view, 
I  paused  not  till  their  trade  they  knew. 
Daily  the  practice  I  maintained 
Till  thrice  the  moon  had  waxed  and  waned  ;, 
At  length  when  every  point  was  clear 
With  flowing  sail  I  brought  them  here. 
197 


THE  FIGHT  WITH  THE  DRAGON. 

— As  yet  three  days  are  scarcely  o'er 
Since  safe  I  landed  on  this  shore  ; 
I  scarce  allowed  my  limbs  to  rest, 
Yearning  the  mighty  scheme  to  test. 

*'  For  hotly  burned  my  heart  to  know 

The  land  again  was  plunged  in  woe; 

But  now  some  herdsmen  had  been  found 

All  mangled  near  that  marshy  ground, 

And  taking  heart  alone  for  guide, 

I  vowed  the  issue  to  abide. 

My  plans  to  my  esquires  I  showed, 

Then  straight  the  well-trained  steed  bestrode. 

And  guided  by  the  noble  hounds 

Through  secret  paths,  by  devious  rounds. 

Concealed  from  every  human  eye, 

1  rushed  the  monster  to  defy. 

*'Thou  knowest,  Sire,  the  little  church 
High  on  its  rocky  mountain  perch. 
Built  on  the  pious  master's  plans. 
Which  all  the  island's  limits  scans. 
Although  it  looks  so  small  and  bare, 
A  miracle  is  hidden  there  : 
The  Virgin  with  the  infant  Child, 
(By  the  three  holy  Sovereigns  willed) 
Thrice  thirty  steps  the  pilgims  tread 
To  reach  the  summit  overhead  : 
Arrived,  the  Saviour's  presence  near 
Soon  dissipates  their  dizzy  fear. 

**  Beneath  the  church  a  cavern  deep 
Burrows  into  the  rocky  steep. 
Dripping  with  moisture  from  the  fell. 
Wherein  no  ray  from  heaven  may  dwell. 
198 


THE  FIGHT  WITH  THE  DRAGON. 

Here  crouched  the  reptile,  night  and  day 
Intently  watching-  for  his  prey. 
And  thus  the  hellish  creature  sate, 
A  sentinel  at  God's  own  gate ; 
And  as  some  toiling  pilgrim  strode 
Unconscious,  past  his  grim  abode. 
The  monster,  bursting  from  the  gloom, 
Would  drag  him  to  his  awful  doom. 

*'  But  ere  I  joined  the  deadly  strife 
I  mounted  to  the  highest  cliff; 
Kneeling  before  the  heavenly  child, 
With  God  my  soul  I  reconciled. 
And  in  the  holy  place  I  stand 
And  gird  me  with  my  naked  brand, 
Then  gripping  firm  my  trusty  lance, 
Down  to  the  battle  I  advance. 
In  rear  I  leave  th'  attendant  train, 
To  each  his  duties  I  explain. 
And  springing  lightly  on  my  steed. 
Commend  to  God  my  urgent  need. 

**  Scarce  had  I  reached  the  level  ground 
Ere  joyous  bays  each  gallant  hound  ; 
My  frightened  horse  begins  to  rear, 
And  pants  and  trembles  in  his  fear. 
For  close  at  hand  in  placid  coil. 
Basking  upon  the  sun-baked  soil, 
The  monster  spreads  his  hideous  mail. 
Madly  the  dogs  their  foe  assail ; 
But  quick  as  lightning  they  withdraw 
When  he  distends  his  mighty  jaw, 
And  belches  forth  a  poisoned  stream 
Which  whistles  like  the  jackal's  scream. 
199 


THE  FIGHT  WITH  THE  DRAGON. 

*'  But  soon  their  courage  comes  again, 

Once  more  they  charge  with  might  and  main, 

Meanwhile  I  cause  my  spear  to  fly 

With  fury  'gainst  the  monster's  thigh  ; 

But,  like  a  slender  reed,  it  fails 

To  penetrate  his  armoured  scales ; 

And  ere  the  stroke  I  can  renew 

My  courser  rears  and  shuns  the  view, 

Starting  before  that  glassy  stare, 

And  sidling  from  the  poisoned  air. 

Backward  he  reels  with  frenzied  speed  : 

— And  now  my  case  is  sore  indeed  ! — 

**  With  lightning  speed  to  earth  I  spring, 
And  swift  my  naked  sword  unsling ; 
But  never  blow,  however  fierce. 
Prevails  the  flinty  hide  to  pierce. 
Anon  his  tail  comes  lashing  round. 
And  sends  me  reeling  to  the  ground  ; 
Within  the  gaping  jaws  I  see 
The  cruel  fangs  expecting  me, 
When  the  good  hounds  with  furious  cry 
Straight  at  the  monster's  belly  fly. 
And  fix  their  teeth  and  rend  amain 
So  that  he  bellows,  mad  with  pain. 

''And  ere  he  can  shake  off  their  grip 
On  to  my  feet  once  more  I  leap, 
And  marking  well  th'  unguarded  part, 
I  drive  my  blade  into  his  heart 
Up  to  the  very  hilt.     His  blood 
Springs  high,  a  black  envenomed  flood  ; 
Reeling,  he  falls  inanimate, 
And  bears  me  down  beneath  his  weight. 
200 


THE  FIGHT  WITH  THE  DRAGON. 

— My  senses  fail  :  and  when  at  length 
I  wake  with  fresh-recovered  strength, 
I  see  my  servants  leaning  o'er 
The  Dragon  dead  and  steeped  in  gore." 

Then  loud  applause,  till  now  suppressed. 
Bursts  forth  from  every  hearer's  breast, 
While  thus  the  Knight  concludes  his  tale. 
Aloft  the  very  rafters  quail, 
As  to  the  vaulted  roof  arise 
In  echoing  storm  th'  approving  cries. 
**  A  crown  of  triumph  should  endow," 
The  chapter  shout,  ''the  hero's  brow." 
And  all  the  folk  without  the  gate 
Would  witness  his  triumphant  state. 
But  dark  and  stern  the  master  stands. 
And  silence  in  the  hall  commands. 

Quoth  he  :  ''  'Tis  true,  thy  valiant  hand 
Hath  slain  the  terror  of  our  land  ; 
But,  Godlike  to  the  folk  below, 
Thou  comest  back  thine  Order  s  foe. 
An  evil  thing  thy  soul  possessed. 
As  noisome  as  the  vanquished  pest. 
The  serpent  round  the  heart  which  clings, 
And  discord  and  corruption  brings. 
That  is  the  headstrong  stubborn  mood 
Which  by  no  law  can  be  subdued. 
Our  Order's  holy  peace  alloys, 
And  happiness  on  earth  destroys. 

"  Courage  the  Mamlouk  will  display, 
The  Christian's  part  is  to  obey  ; 
Here  where  the  Lord  of  power  and  might 
Thought  fit  in  menial  garb  t'  alight, 

20I 


THE  FIGHT  WITH  THE  DRAGON, 

The  Fathers  on  this  holy  ground 
Resolved  our  covenant  to  found, 
And  the  first  duty  to  fulfil 
Was  to  place  bounds  on  selfish  will. 
Since  empty  fame  has  stirred  thine  heart, 
I  bid  thee  from  my  sight  depart. 
The  sacred  yoke  who  will  not  bear 
Loses  the  right  the  Cross  to  wear." 

At  this  a  thrill  pervades  the  crowd, 
The  hall  resounds  with  murmurs  loud, 
As  all  the  Brethren  grace  implore. 
But,  gazing  mutely  on  the  floor. 
The  noble  youth  his  cloak  removes. 
Salutes  the  strong,  stern  hand  he  loves, 
And  goes. — All  look  in  blank  dismay, 
When  soft  the  master  bids  him  stay. 
Crying,  *'  Embrace  me  now^  my  Son, 
A  harder  battle  thou  hast  won. 
Receive  this  Cross  :  it  is  the  prize 
Of  meekness  and  self-sacrifice." 


2Q2 


r 


THE  WALK  TO  THE  FOUNDRY. 

A  pious  youth  was  Fridolin, 

And  in  all  godly  fear 
He  held  the  Countess  of  Savern 

Who  was  his  mistress  dear. 
She  was  so  gentle  and  so  good  ; 
And  e'en  in  her  more  hasty  mood, 
He  would  have  hastened  to  fulfil 
Her  every  wish  with  hearty  will. 

From  the  first  dawning  streak  of  day 

Until  the  vesper  bell 
His  only  wish  was  to  obey, 

In  duty  to  excel. 
And  did  his  lady  counsel  rest, 
Into  his  eyes  the  tear-drops  pressed ; 
He  thought  his  duty  left  undone 
If  not  by  wearying  efforts  shown. 

Him,  then,  o'er  all  the  menial  train 

The  Countess  chose  to  raise  ; 
From  her  fair  lips  did  ever  rain 
Unmeasured  words  of  praise. 
Her  servant  he  no  longer  seemed, 
Rather  her  darling  son  esteemed  ; 
Upon  his  handsome  face  her  eye 
Was  ever  dwelling  joyfully. 
203 


THE  WALK  TO  THE  FOUNDRY. 

Thereat  in  huntsman  Robert's  heart 

A  dark  resentment  rose. 
(With  lust  to  play  some  cruel  part 

Long  time  his  bosom  glows.) 
To  the  hot-blooded  Count  he  went, 
Whose  ear  was  all  too  lightly  lent, 
And  coming  from  the  hunting  field 
The  seeds  of  doubt  he  thus  instilled. 

**  How  fortunate,  Sir  Count,  art  thou," 

Quoth  he  with  cunning  deep, 
**  Suspicion's  poisoned  voice,  I  trow, 

Ne'er  mars  thy  golden  sleep  ; 
For  what  a  noble  wife  is  thine. 
Girdled  with  chastity  divine  ; 
Loyal  fidelity  t'  ensnare 
Drives  the  seducer  to  despair." 

Then  rolls  the  Count  his  flashing  eye  : 
**  What  dost  thou  tell  me,  knave? 

On  woman's  virtue  to  rely — 
As  fickle  as  the  wave  ? 

A  flattering  tongue  she  aye  demands. 

My  faith  on  sounder  footing  stands. 

None  dares,  I  hope,  his  eyes  to  turn 

Upon  the  Countess  of  Savern  !  " 

The  other  spake  :  **  Thou  thinkst  aright ; 

Only  thy  passing  scorn 
Should  he,  who  so  presumes,  excite, 

— A  fool  and  menial  born — 
Who  on  his  mistress  dares  to  raise 
His  wicked  thoughts  and  wanton  gaze." 
—  "What !  " — thus  the  trembling  Count  began 
— "  Dost  speak  of  any  living  man  ?  " 
204 


THE  WALK  TO  THE  FOUNDRY. 

*'  Was  that  which  filled  the  mouths  of  men 

Still  from  my  Lord  concealed  ? 
Then  let  not  what  has  'scaped  thy  ken 

By  me  be  first  revealed." — 
*'  Speak  !  for  thy  life,  thou  villain,  speak," 
The  other  cries  with  frenzied  shriek  : 
*'  Who  dares  on  Cunigond  to  look?  " 
*'  — Well,  it  was  of  the  Page  I  spoke. 

*'  The  youth  is  of  no  common  frame," 

He  craftily  pursued. 
While  hot  and  cold  the  Count  became, 

And  quivered  as  he  stood. 
*'Then  didst  thou  never  notice,  Sir, 
That  he  had  eyes  alone  for  her  ? 
For  thee  at  table  had  no  care. 
But  ever  languished  round  her  chair? 

**  See  here  the  verses  which  he  sent 

His  passion  to  confess  " — 
**  Confess  !  " — *'  And  which,  impertinent, 

For  mutual  ardour  press. 
The  Countess,  with  compassion  filled. 
Doubtless  the  truth  from  thee  concealed  : 
My  hasty  words  I  now  regret ; 
— But,  Sir,  what  cause  for  thee  to  fret  ?  " 

Into  the  little  wood  hard  by 

The  Count  in  fury  turns, 
To  where  in  roaring  industry 

His  iron-furnace  burns. 
By  many  a  busy  toiling  hand 
Early  and  late  the  blast  is  fanned  ; 
The  sparks  out-fly,  the  bellows  groan 
As  though  to  fuse  the  solid  stone. 
205 


THE  WALK  TO  THE  FOUNDRY. 

The  might  of  fire,  the  water's  force, 

Are  here  united  found  ; 
The  mill-wheel  in  the  current's  course 

Goes  ever  round  and  round. 
All  day  and  night  the  workshops  ring, 
In  time  the  ponderous  hammers  swing,, 
And  yielding  to  those  mighty  blows, 
The  very  iron  plastic  grows. 

Two  of  the  men  he  bids  attend, 
And  thus  explains  their  task  : — 

**  The  one  whom  first  I  hither  send„ 
And  who  proceeds  to  ask  : — 

*  Have  ye  obeyed  our  master  well  ?  * 

Him  cast  into  yon  fiery  hell, 

Till  but  his  ashes  shall  remain, 

Nor  let  him  vex  my  sight  again  !  "^ 

Thereat  rejoiced  th'  inhuman  pair,. 

With  murderous  lust  possessed^ 
For  hard  and  cold  as  iron  were 

The  hearts  within  their  breast. 
With  zeal  the  bellows  do  they  ply 
And  heap  the  raging  furnace  high. 
And  with  bloodthirsty  zest  prepare 
The  fated  victim  to  ensnare. 

Then  Robert  to  his  fellow  cries 

With  black  hypocrisy  : — 
**  Hither,  my  lad,  at  once  ;  arise  ! 

My  lord  has  need  of  thee." 
The  master  speaks  to  Fridolin  : 
"  Make  haste  the  iron-works  to  gain. 
And  ask  the  men  who  labour  there 
If  my  behests  have  had  their  care." 
206 


THE  WALK  TO  THE  FOUNDRY. 

Replied  the  youth  :  **  I  haste  to  go." 
And  girded  him  with  speed  : 

But  paused,  reflecting  that  she  too 
His  services  might  need. 

Unto  the  Countess  then  he  went  : — 

"  Down  to  the  foundry  I  am  sent ; 

What  can  I  do  to  please  thee,  say? 

For  thy  commands  I  first  obey," 

On  this  the  lady  of  Savern 

Replied  in  gentlest  tone  : 
'*'To  hear  the  blessed  mass  I  yearn, 

But  suffering  lies  my  son. 
So  go,  my  child,  and,  kneeling,  tell 
A  pious  prayer  for  me  as  well, 
And  if  repentant  be  thy  prayer, 
I  too,  perchance,  thy  grace  may  share." 

And  on  this  welcome  errand  bound, 

He  took  his  course  amain 
With  joy,  and  time  had  scarcely  found 

The  village  end  to  gain. 
When  on  his  ear  in  tones  sublime 
Resounded  the  sonorous  chime 
Which,  telling  of  forgiveness  sent, 
Bids  sinners  to  the  Sacrament. 

**  Do  not  the  loving  God  evade 
When  in  thy  path  He  lies  !  " 
So  saying,  for  the  church  he  made. 

No  sounds  of  worship  rise. 
'Tis  harvest,  and  the  reaper  wields 
His  sickle  in  the  glowing  fields. 
No  choir  is  present  to  sustain 
The  mass  with  disciplined  refrain. 
207 


THE  WALK  TO  THE  FOUNDRY. 

The  resolution  straight  he  made 

The  Sacristan  to  play  ; 
''  That  which  leads  heavenward,"  he  said,. 

'^  Is  surely  no  delay  !  " 
About  the  Priest  with  mien  abased 
The  stole  and  bands  he  humbly  placed,. 
Then  set  himself  with  pious  care 
The  holy  vessels  to  prepare. 

And  when  the  altar  he  had  dressed 

He  meekly  took  his  stand, 
As  an  assistant,  by  the  Priest, 

The  Office  in  his  hand. 
To  left  and  right  in  turn  he  knelt, 
And  on  each  slightest  signal  dwelt, 
And  when  the  holy  Sanctus  came 
Rang  thrice  to  greet  the  sacred  name. 

And  as  the  Priest  devoutly  bends 

And  o'er  the  altar,  calm, 
The  very  present  God  extends 

In  his  uplifted  palm, 
The  Sacristan  proclaims  the  spell 
Upon  the  clear  and  silvery  bell. 
And  all  kneel  down,  and  every  breast 
Is  crossed  before  Christ  manifest. 

Each  function  thus  in  order  due 

He  did  with  ready  thought ; 
The  ritual  of  God's  house  he  knew, 

By  inner  conscience  taught. 
Nor  wearied  till  the  service  ceased,     . 
And  to  the  parting  folk  the  Priest 
The  Dominus  vobiscum  said, 
And  a  devout  departure  bade. 
208 


THE  WALK  TO  THE  FOUNDRY. 

First  all  to  order  he  restored 

And  set  in  fair  array, 
And  swept  the  sanctuary  adored, 

And  then  he  went  his  way 
With  mind  at  peace  along-  the  road 
To  where  the  iron  foundry  stood  ; 
And  the  full  number  to  uphold, 
A  dozen  Paternosters  told. 

And  when  the  chimneys  came  in  view, 

He  shouted  to  the  hands  : — 
**  Have  ye  been  careful,  lads,  to  do 

Our  noble  Count's  commands  ?  " 
A  leer  upon  their  features  came. 
And  pointing  to  the  raging  flame  ; — 
**  His  case  is  settled^''''  they  replied  ; 
*'  The  Count  will  learn  our  work  with  pride." 

Straight  to  his  master  this  reply 

With  utmost  haste  he  took. 
Who  gazed  upon  him  drawing  nigh 

With  wonder-stricken  look. 
"Unhappy  one,  whence  com'st  thou,  say?" 
*'  Sir,  from  the  iron  foundry." — ''  Nay  ! 
Then  on  the  road  thou  hast  delayed  !  " 
**  Sir,  it  was  only  while  I  prayed. 

*  *  For  when  this  day  I  left  thy  side 

(For  this  thy  pardon.  Sir  !) 
First  to  my  mistress  I  applied  : 

— My  duty  is  to  her. — 
The  holy  mass  she  bade  me  hear, 
And  this  I  did  with  joy  sincere, 
And  told  four  Aves  at  the  shrine 
For  her  salvation  and  for  thine." 

200  p 


THE  WALK  TO  THE  FOUNDRY. 

At  this  the  Count  in  agony 

Shuddered  with  bitter  pain  : 
— ''  And  at  the  foundry  what  reply, 

My  lad,  didst  thou  obtain  ?  " 
*'  My  lord,  their  answer  was  obscure, 
For,  pointing  to  the  furnace  door, 
*  His  case  is  settled^''  they  replied, 
*The  Count  will  learn  our  work  with  pride.*  '* 

"And  Robert,"  thus  the  Count  pursued. 

Seized  with  a  chilly  sweat, 
"  I  sent  him  also  to  the  wood  : 

Surely,  ye  must  have  met  ?  " 
**  Sir,  neither  wood  nor  open  field 
Did  any  trace  of  Robert  yield." 
*'Then,"  cried  the  Count  with  awe-struck  tone» 
"  The  will  of  God  Himself  is  done  !  " 

And  gentler  than  had  been  his  wont, 

He  took  his  servant's  hand, 
Led  him  the  Countess  to  confront, 

(Who  failed  to  understand) 
And  said  :  "  This  child  is  angel  pure  : 
Let  him,  I  pray,  thy  grace  secure  ! 
If  evil  counsellers  were  ours. 
On  him  the  grace  of  Heaven  showers  ! " 


2IO 


THE  COUNT  OF  HAPSBURG. 


At  Aix-la-Chapelle  in  his  regal  array- 
King  Rudolph  ascended  his  place 
In  the  hoary  old  castle,  to  honour  the  day — 
The  feast  of  his  crowning  to  grace. 
The  dishes  were  served  by  the  Prince  of  the  Rhine, 
The  Lord  of  Bohemia  handed  the  wine  ; 
And  all  the  Electorate — seven  to  wit — 
(As  stars  in  the  firmament  circle  the  sun) 
The  Potentate  hail,  and  leave  nothing  undone, 
No  charge  of  their  dignified  office  omit. 

And  under  the  canopied  balcony's  frame 
Encouragements  loyal  and  loud 
Half  deadened  the  blare  of  the  trumpets'  acclaim 
From  the  dense  and  aff'ectionate  crowd. 

For  here  was  an  end  of  the  period  dread 
Without  an  imperial  governing  head  ; 
A  judge  among  men  was  established  again. 

No  need  to  avoid  the  inconsequent  blow. 
The  mild  and  the  meek  could  their  terrors  forgo, 
And  past  was  the  bold  braggadocio's  reign. 

And  the  Emperor  brandished  his  goblet  of  gold. 
And  said  in  a  satisfied  tone  :  — 
"This  feast  my  imperial  state  will  uphold, 
The  banquet  is  worthy  my  throne  ; 

211  p  2 


THE  COUNT  OF  HAPSBURG. 

But  where  is  the  minstrel  high  thoughts  to  suggest,. 
And  stir  to  emotion  the  chords  of  my  breast 
With  learning  illustrious,  music  divine  ? 
For  so  I  was  favoured  when  even  a  boy  ; 
And  what,  as  a  Knight,  I  was  wont  to  enjoy, 
As  Monarch,  I  swear  shall  be  certainly  mine." 

Then  out  of  the  circle  of  princes  around 

The  heavy-girt  minstrel  appears, 

And  his  dignified  forehead  with  silver  was  crowned, 

For  he  bowed  'neath  the  weight  of  his  years. 

Sweet  melody  sleeps  in  his  golden  strings, 

And  of  love  requited  the  minstrel  sings. 

He  sings  of  all  that  is  highest  and  best. 

What  heart  can  hope,  and  the  mind  esteem — 

"  But  what  at  this  feast  were  a  worthy  theme  ? 

What  is  the  Emperor's  own  behest  ?  " 

"  Unworthy  it  were  to  dictate  to  a  bard," 

The  affable  Emperor  cries  ; 

'*  To  a  loftier  master  he  turns  his  regard. 

His  topic  the  moment  supplies. 

For  just  as  the  hurricane  screams  through  the  air, 

And  its  turbulent  origin  none  can  declare, 

As  waters  arise  from  mysterious  deeps. 

The  song  of  the  bard  from  his  consciousness  flows, 

And  life  on  the  sensitive  feeling  bestows 

Which  deep  in  the  soul  half  inanimate  sleeps." 

Then  hastened  the  quivering  fingers  to  trace 

Melodious  measures  and  clear  ; 

And  he  chanted  : — ''A  hero  rode  forth  to  the  chase 

Pursuing  the  fugitive  deer. 

On  his  arrogant  courser  he  trotted  before 

While  his  arms,  in  attendance,  a  menial  bore. 

212 


THE  COUNT  OF  HAPSBURG. 

And  as  he  rode  over  the  wandering  plain 

A  silvery  tinkle  saluted  his  ears — 

'Tis  a  priest  who  "  the  Host"  in  its  majesty  rears^ 

And  a  reverend  acolyte  comes  in  his  train. 

"And  the  Count  in  humility  bowed  to  the  ground^ 
Uncovering,  as  beseemed  ; 
Acknowledging  Him  with  an  ardour  profound 
Who  the  whole  of  mankind  redeemed. 

Now  the  brook  which  babbled  across  the  way 
To  a  furious  torrent  was  swelled  that  day, 
And  the  wanderer  threatened  with  ominous  force  ; 
So  laying  the  Elements  down  at  his  side, 
Barefooted,  the  priest  with  a  confident  stride 
Affronted  the  torrent's  imperious  course. 

* '  *  What  doest  thou  ?  '  shouted  the  Count  in  surprise, — 
*  My  Lord,  I  am  fain  to  repair 
To  the  bed  of  a  poor  fellow-creature  who  dies, 
And  pines  for  the  heavenly  fare  : 
But  lo  !  as  I  reached  the  familiar  side, 
The  bridge  was  engulfed  by  the  thunderous  tide 
And  carried  away  by  the  watery  waste. 
To  bear  to  the  sufferer  heavenly  aid 
Barefooted  I  now  would  endeavour  to  wade, 
And  traverse  the  flood  in  importunate  haste.* 
**  Then  yielded  the  Knight  his  caparisoned  steed 
And  handed  the  sumptuous  rein. 
That  the  suffering  man  might  be  served  in  his  need,, 
The  Priest  from  no  duty  abstain. 
Then  mounting  himself  to  his  menial's  place. 
Contented,  he  followed  the  joys  of  the  chase.-— 
Meanwhile,  the  good  priest  had  his  errand  achieved,. 
And  his  eye  with  a  genuine  gratitude  burned 
The  following  morn,  as  he  humbly  returned 
The  steed  to  the  Count  who  his  care  had  relieved. 
213 


THE  COUNT  OF  HAPSBURG. 

**  *  Now  Heaven  forbid,'  in  humility  cried 

The  Count,  '  that  to  trumpet  or  horn 

That  courser  again  I  should  dare  to  bestride 

Which  my  very  Creator  has  borne  ! 

An  thou  must  refuse  him  as  spoil  of  thine  own, 

Attribute  him  then  to  God's  service  alone  ! 

To  God  I  commit  him,  who  wields  the  control 

Of  honour,  of  all  my  terrestrial  wealth. 

Of  all  that  1  value  in  power  and  health. 

The  blessing  of  life,  and  the  gift  of  a  Soul.' 

*'  '  Now  God  the  Almighty,  whose  fostering  care 

Attends  to  the  cry  of  the  weak. 

Grant  you  now  and  ever  such  honour  to  wear 

As  you  for  His  person  bespeak. 

Thy  power.  Sir  Knight,  we  can  all  understand, 

And  thy  prowess  is  blazoned  through  Switzerland. 

Six  daughters  thou  cherishest  charming  and  fair. 

Now  may  they,'  he  cried  in  a  passionate  tone, 

*  Be  mothers  of  whole  generations  unknown, 

And  a  governing  crown  may  each  one  of  them  share  ! '  '* 

Then,  deep  in  reflection,  the  Emperor  mused, 

And  thought  over  days  gone  by  ; 

And  as  he  regarded  the  singer,  confused, 

His  meaning  he  read  in  his  eye. 

The  face  of  the  priest  to  his  memory  rose, 

And,  dreading  his  swift-welling  tears  to  expose, 

He  buried  his  lineaments  under  his  cloak. 

Then  all  who  surrounded  the  Emperor's  throne 
Perceive  that  the  Count  and  the  Kaiser  are  one, 
And  blessings  upon  their  good  master  invoke. 


214 


THE  GLOVE. 


Before  his  Lion  Court, 

Keen  for  the  tourney's  sport, 

King  Francis  sat  on  a  day. 

Around  were  the  mighty  ones  of  the  land, 

And  up  in  a  balcony,  close  at  hand, 

The  ladies  in  bright  array. 

And  as  with  his  finger  a  sign  he  made. 

Wide  opened  the  gates  in  the  palisade  ; 

A  lion  is  seen 

With  stately  mien. 

He  glares  around, 

But  makes  no  sound  ; 

He  yawns  disdain, 

And  shakes  his  mane. 

And  stretching  once  more, 

Lies  down  on  the  floon 

Another  sign  is  made  by  the  King 

A  neighbouring  portal  open  to  fling — 

With  a  furious  crash 

And  a  ponderous  dash 

A  tiger  springs  in. 

The  lion  he  views. 

And  with  roaring  pursues. 

And  lashes  his  tail 

Like  the  sweep  of  a  flail  ; 

215 


THE  GLOVE 

He  exhibits  his  fangs, 
And  cautiously  hangs 
At  a  distance  secure 
From  the  Hon  demure, 
And  snarls  and  howls — 
Then  quietly  prowls 
And  lies  at  the  lion's  side. 

Again  a  signal  is  made  by  the  King. 
The  doors  of  a  den  are  opened  wide, 
And  forth  a  couple  of  leopards  glide. 
With  lust  of  battle  they  prowl  around, 
Then  furious  on  to  the  tiger  bound. 
But  they  succumb  to  the  terrible  paws. 
And  next  the  lion  opens  his  jaws 
And  roars  aloud  :  then  all  is  still. 
With  glaring  eyes  with  lust  which  thrill, 
There  the  terrible  beasts  of  prey, 
Ranged  in  an  awful  circle,  lay. 

Then  some  fair  hand  from  the  terrace  above 
Into  the  lists  let  fall  her  glove. 
Fluttering  down  from  the  gallery  gay. 
Between  the  lion  and  tiger  it  lay. 

With  a  bantering  tone  fair  Cunigonde 

To  the  Knight  Delorges  cried  : — 

"  An  thy  love  for  me,  Sir  Knight,  be  as  fond 

As  often  thou  hast  sighed, 

Then  bring  me,  I  pray  thee,  my  glove  again  ' 

The  Knight,  unanswering,  vaulted  amain 
Into  the  lists  from  above. 
With  confident  stride  and  an  easy  grace 
He  boldly  affronted  that  horrible  place, 
And  rescued  the  delicate  glove. 
216 


THE  GLOVE. 

With  terrified  wonder  the  stirring"  sight 
Was  witnessed  by  every  lady  and  knight, 
And  as  he  returned  with  the  glove  in  his  grip 
His  praises  resounded  from  lip  to  lip. 
And  Cunigonde  with  a  tender  glance, 
Which  seemed  to  augur  his  fortunate  chance, 
Stepped  forward  her  lover  to  greet. 

But  he  hurled  the  rescued  glove  in  her  face 
*'  Thy  thanks,  my  Lady,  are  out  of  place  !  " 
—And  they  parted,  never  to  meet. 


217 


THE  VEILED  IMAGE  AT  SAIS. 

A  youth  there  was  who,  burning  with  a  thirst 
For  knowledge,  to  Egyptian  Sais  came 
In  hopes  the  wisdom  of  the  Priests  to  learn. 
Some  grades  his  ready  wit  soon  left  behind, 
But  his  inquiring  spirit  urged  him  on 
Until  the  Priest  could  hardly  satisfy 
Th'  inquirer's  zeal. — "  Why,  what  do  I  possess," 
Exclaimed  the  youth,  '*  unless  possessed  of  all? 
Is  there,  then,  here  a  greater  and  a  less? 
And  are  thy  verities,  as  fancy  bids. 
Only  a  sum  which,  be  it  great  or  small, 
May  be  obtained  and  utilised  at  will  ? 
Are  they  not  indivisible  and  one  ? 
Take  from  a  perfect  harmony  one  tone, 
Deprive  the  rainbow  of  a  single  tint. 
And  what  remains  is  nothing,  if  there  fail 
Complete  perfection  in  those  notes  and  hues/' 
And  thus  conversing,  once  they  found  themselves 
Wandering  into  a  sequestered  fane, 
Where  to  his  wonderment  the  youth  observed 
An  image  deeply  veiled,  of  giant  size. 
And  turning  to  his  guide  :   "  What,"  he  demands, 
*'  Does  yonder  veil  beneath  its  folds  conceal  ?  " 
"  The  Truth,"  is  the  reply.—"  What,"  cried  the  boy,, 
''  'Tis  nothing  else  but  Truth  that  I  pursue, 
And  must  I  find  that  just  that  Truth  is  veiled?  " 
218 


THE  VEILED  IMAGE  AT  SAIS. 

''That  with  the  Deity  thou  must  arrange," 

Replied  the  Priest.   "  No  mortal,  'tis  ordained, 

Shall  lift  this  veil  till  I  do  so  myself. 

And  he  who  with  unconsecrated  hand 

Shall  earlier  the  mystery  expose, 

He,  saith  the  God  "— ''  Well  ?  "— "  He  shall  see  the 

Truth." 
*'  A  strange  oracular  decree  !  and  thou, 
Hast  thou  thyself  the  secret  never  probed  ?  " 
**  I  ?  No  indeed  !  And  have  not  even  felt 
So  tempted." — "That  I  can  not  understand. 
If  but  this  veil  divided  me  from  Truths" — 
**  And  a  command,  my  son,"  struck  in  his  guide. 
"  More  weighty  than  perchance  thou  dost  divine     » 
Is  this  thin  gauze — light  truly  to  thine  hand. 
But  on  thy  conscience  hundredweights  it  loads." 
O'erwhelmed    in   thought,  homeward   the  youth   re- 
turned ; 
But  the  consuming  eagerness  to  know 
Robbed  him  of  sleep,  he  tossed  upon  his  couch, 
And  rose  at  midnight. — To  the  temple  straight, 
In  spite  of  him,  his  faltering  footsteps  turned. 
An  easy  task  it  was  to  scale  the  wall. 
And  with  one  leap  the  bold  adventurer  stands 
Right  in  the  inner  precincts  of  the  fane. 
Here  he  makes  pause,  and  notices  with  awe 
The  lonely,  lifeless  silence  which  prevails, 
Only  disturbed  by  the  re-echoing  clang 
Of  his  own  footfall  in  the  secret  vault. 
Above,  athwart  the  breaches  in  the  dome 
The  moon  projects  a  pale  and  silvery  ray. 
And,  awful  as  a  very-present  God, 
Clear  in  the  shadow  of  the  arched  recess 
In  its  long  shroud  the  image  brightly  gleams. 
219 


THE  VEILED  IMAGE  AT  SAIS. 

Anon  advancing  with  uncertain  stride, 

He  lifts  his  hand  the  holy  thing  to  touch, 

When  hot  and  cold  his  bones  alternate  thrill, 

And  by  an  unseen  arm  he  is  repulsed. 

"  Unhappy  man,  what  wouldst  thou  do?'^  So  cries 

Within  his  consciousness  a  warning  voice. 

"  Wouldst  thou  presume  the  holiest  to  tempt? 

No  mortal,  so  the  oracle  declared. 

Shall  raise  this  veil  till  it  is  raised  by  me," 

"  Thus  spoke  he,  but  did  not  the  speaker  add  : — 

*  Whoever  lifts  this  veil  shall  see  the  Truth  ?  '  " 

**  Be  what  there  may  behind,  raise  it  I  will." 

In  rising  tones  he  cries  : — ''  I  will  behold  !  " 

*' Behold!" 
Thus  does  the  mocking  echo  make  reply. 

The  last  is  said  : — and  he  has  drawn  the  veil. 

"  Now,"  ye  will  ask,  *'  what  object  met  his  gaze  ?  " 

I  know  not. — Void  of  consciousness  and  pale, 

So  on  the  morrow  was  he  prostrate  found 

By  the  attending  Priests  at  Isis'  feet. 

Whate'er  he  saw,  whatever  then  he  learned 

His  lips  have  never  told  :  but  gone  for  aye 

Was  all  the  former  gladness  of  his  life, 

And  sorrow  bore  him  to  an  early  grave. 

^*  W^oe  be  to  him,"  his  warning  voice  would  say 

When  urgent  questioners  around  him  pressed, 

**  Woe  be  to  him  who  seeks  for  Truth  through  sin  ! 

For  Truth  so  found  no  happiness  will  yield." 


220 


THE  PARTITION  OF  THE  WORLD, 


*'  Here,  take  the  world,"  cried  mighty  Zeus,  addressing 
Mankind  at  large  from  his  high  throne  above. 

*'  I  give  it  you  for  ever  u^ith  my  blessing  ; 
But  share  it  with  fraternal  love." 

Then  hastened  every  hand  to  the  partition  t 
With  equal  ardour  young  and  aged  came. 

The  crops  aroused  the  husbandman's  ambition, 
The  young  blood  fixed  upon  the  game. 

The  merchant  ran  to  fill  his  stores  with  treasure, 

The  Abbot  singled  out  the  oldest  wine, 
The  King  blocked  roads  ,and  bridges  at  his  pleasure. 

And  cried  :  ''A  tithe  of  all  is  mine," 

Just  at  the  last,  when  all  had  been  provided, 
The  Poet  came  :  he  came  from  far  away. 

Alas  !  no  more  remained  to  be  divided, 
And  all  things  owned  some  master's  sway. 

^*  Ah  !  Woe  is  me  I  am  I  alone  neglected, 
Of  all  mankind  thy  dearest,  truest  son  ?  " 

Thus  wailing  loud,  in  attitude  dejected 
He  crouched  before  Jove's  awful  throne. 

**  If  thou  to  dwell  in  dreamland  hast  elected," 
Replied  the  God,   *'  lay  not  the  blame  on  me. 

Where  wast  thou  when  the  sharing  was  effected  ?  " 
*'  I  was,"  the  Poet  said,  *'  by  thee." 

221 


THE  PARTITION  OF  THE  WORLD. 

*'  Mine  eye  upon  thy  countenance  was  dwelling", 
Thy  heavenly  harmony  entranced  mine  ear ; 

Forgive  the  mind  thine  influence  compelling 
Rendered  oblivious  of  this  sphere." 

**  What  can  I  do  ?  "  said  Zeus,  "  for  all  is  given  ; 

The  harvest,  sport,  the  markets,  all  are  seized. 
But  an  thou  choose  to  live  with  me  in  heaven, 

Come  when  thou  willst,  and  I  shall  be  well  pleasedJ 


222 


THE  STRANGE  MAIDEN. 

A  vale  there  was,  whose  simple  folk 
Perceived  with  each  returning  year, 
Just  as  the  earliest  larks  awoke, 
A  strange  and  lovely  maid  appear. 

Her  birth  the  valley  could  not  boast. 
Where  she  had  come  from  none  could  tell ; 
And  every  trace  of  her  was  lost 
The  moment  she  had  bid  farewell. 

Her  presence  caused  an  honest  mirth 
AH  hearts  and  spirits  to  invade. 
And  yet  her  dignity  and  worth 
Familiarity  forbade. 

Enchanting  blooms  and  fruits  she  bore 
With  gay  profusion  in  her  hand, 
Grown  on  some  more  prolific  shore, 
The  products  of  a  sunnier  land. 

To  every  one  she  gave  a  share — 
To  this  some  fruit,  to  that  a  bloom  ; 
And  whether  young  or  bowed  with  care, 
All  turned  their  footsteps  richer  home. 

Welcome  were  all,  but  if  by  chance, 
Hand  clasped  in  hand,  some  lovers  passed, 
For  them  was  her  most  favoured  glance, 
And  they  received  her  very  best. 


223 


THE  IDEAL  AND  LIFE. 

/     Calm  and  transparent,  as  a  mirror  bright 
'      Flows  Life  along  with  Zephyr  wings  bedight 

Where  dwell  the  blest  in  their  Olympian  state^ 

Moons  may  decay,  and  generations  wane  ; 

The  roses  of  their  godlike  youth  remain. 

Immutable,  amid  the  general  fate. 

A  timid  choice  is  granted  to  mankind 

'Twixt  sensual  happiness  and  peace  of  soul. 

Only  upon  celestial  brows  are  joined 

The  two  united  under  one  control. 

0     Wouldst  thou  on  earth  aspire  a  God  to  be. 
And  of  the  regions  of  the  dead  be  free, 
See  that  thou  pluck  not  of  the  garden's  fruit  ! 
Enough  upon  its  sheen  to  feast  thine  eyes, 
/  For  all  too  soon  some  new  desire  will  rise 
/   Possession's  transient  pleasures  to  confute. 
Why,  Styx  himself,  who  ninefold  trammels  bound 
About  her,  could  not  Ceres'  daughter  stay  : 
She  grasped  the  apple,  and  thenceforth  was  bound 
The  -will  of  dismal  Orcus  to  obey. 

The  body  leans  upon  those  powers  alone 
Which  influence  Fate's  darkest,  dreariest  zone  ; 
But  free  from  pressure  of  the  passing  storm, 
The  playfellow  of  Nature  at  its  best. 
Meanders  in  the  precincts  of  the  blest, 
Divine  'mid  deities — Ideal  Form. 
224 


3 


THE  IDEAL  AND  LIFE. 

If  thou  wouldst  rise  upon  celestial  wings, 
The  little  pains  of  earth  thou  must  ignore ; 
Abandon  count  of  mere  terrestrial  things, 
And  to  the  realms  of  the  Ideal  soar ! 

/    Young  ever,  and  from  earthly  blemish  free, 

/    In  light  of  perfect  uniformity, 

Here  is  man's  image  by  the  Gods  designed. 

As  silent  phantom  forms  which  lived  of  yore 

Gleam  when  they  wander  on  the  Stygian  shore, 

So  these,  within  the  heavenly  frame  inshrined. 

Once  had  their  place,  before  th'  immortal  fell 

Down  to  the  dark  sarcophagus  of  earth. 

If  in  the  world  the  scales  uncertain  dwell, 

'T  is  there  that  victory  proclaims  its  birth. 

/ 

^'T  is  not  your  limbs  from  battle  to  excuse, 

-^  Nor  in  the  weary  courage  to  infuse, 

That  the  victorious  banner  flutters  here, 

Implacable,  although  you  fain  would  rest, 

Life  hurries  you  along  upon  its  breast, 

And  Time  involves  you  in  its  wild  career. 

And  should  the  pinioned  ardour  of  the  soul 

Shrink  fr^jmtlie  threatened  limits  to  its  flight. 

Look  down  at  last  upon  your  well-earned  goal 

From  Beauty's  calm  and  enviable  height. 

If  it  be  worth  to  govern  and  protect, 
One  champion  'gainst  another  to  project. 
Fortune  and  honour  in  the  lists  to  gain, 
There  may  audacity  be  wrecked  on  force, 
-  And  as  the  chariots  thunder  in  their  course, 
They  mingle  helpless  on  the  dusty  plain. 
He  only  can  obtain  the  victor's  meed 
Whose  courage  presses  to  th'  arena's  prize. 
225  Q 


THE  IDEAL  AND  LIFE. 

Only  the  strong*  to  conquer  fate  succeed, 
The  weakling  in  disparaged  odour  lies. 

While  rugged  rocks  the  stream  of  life  enclose, 
In  boiling  leaps  tumultuous  it  flows  ; 
Yet  how  pacific  wells  that  very  stream 
Through  Beauty's  shadowy  pastures  as  it  purls, 
And  on  its  silvered  mirror-face  unfurls 
Now  Hesperus,  and  now  Aurora's  beam. 
Here  mutual  love  a  tender  balm  inspires. 
And  weaves  a  bond  of  sympathetic  grace  ; 
In  peace  repose  inimical  desires, 
And  the  arch-foe  no  longer  finds  a  place. 

(\;When  Genius  burns  impatient,  by  his  skill 

ATh'  inanimate  with  being  to  instil — 
His  very  self  with  matter  to  unite — 
Then  is  the  moment  every  nerve  to  strain, 
That  noble  Thought  victorious  may  reign 
Over  mere  Element's  obstructive  might. 
/To  him  alone  who  never  seeks  repose 

[The  rippling'  fount  of  Truth  can  be  revealed, 
TVnd  to  th'  artistic  chisel's  mastering  blows 
Alone  will  adamantine  marble  yield. 

But  penetrating  even  Beauty's  sphere 
Toil  must  attend,  and  'mid  the  dust  adhere 
To  matter  which  with  glory  it  invests. 
Not  from  the  mass  laboriously  wrung", 
But  light,  as  though  from  merest  essence  sprung, 
Th'  enchanting  image  every  eye  arrests. 
All  doubts  and  difficulties  pass  away 
As  victory  unfolds  its  certain  plan. 
And  there  remains  no  symptom  to  betray 
Th'  inherent  indigence  of  mortal  man. 
226 


THE  IDEAL  AND  LIFE. 

When  in  mankind's  ignoble  trappings  dressed 

Before  the  bar  divine  ye  stand  impressed, 

And  guilt  approaches  the  immortal  throne, 

No  wonder  that  thy  vaunted  merits  pale 

In  face  of  Truth  ;  that  dubious  actions  quail 

When  the  Ideal  makes  its  power  known  : — 

Perfection  is  for  no  created  thing. 

And  over  this  impenetrable  deep 

No  vessel  plies,  no  kindly  bridge  may  spring, 

In  it  no_ari£hfli^-^a»4ts  iioldhi^  keep.  " 


Be  not  alone  by  narrow  Reason  taught. 

But  freely  rise  to  the  domain  of  Thought, 

So  dark  illusions  soon  will  be  outgrown, 

Abysses  will  no  obstacle  present. 

Thy  spirit  and  the  Deity's  cement, 

And  God  half  way  will  meet  thee  from  His  throne. 

The  rigid  law's  unyielding  fetters  bind 

Only  the  slave  who  treats  them  with  disdain  ; 

Against  the  dull  resistance  of  mankind 

The  very  majesty  of  God  is  vain  !  » 


Torn  by  the  pangs  to  which  mankind  is  heir, 
Like  some  Laocöon,  who  in  despair 
Struggles  against  the  horrid  serpent  brood. 
No  wonder  man  revolts,  and  that  his  cries 

Ascend  to  the  reverberating  skies,  ,. 

And-bend  the  hearer  to  a  melting  mood ! 


Victorious  echo  Nature's  awful  voice  ! 
Let  pallor  blanch  the  too-exalted  brow. 
And  your  immortal  element  rejoice 
Before  a  sacred  sympathy  to  bow  ! 

227  Q  2 


THE  IDEAL  AND  LIFE. 

-But  in  that  light  exhilarating  sphere 
Where  Beauty's  form  is  focussed  sharp  and  clear, 
The  storm  no  longer  howls  amid  the  boles  ; 
Th'  emancipated  spirit  knows  no  pain, 
Tears  flow  no  longer,  and  uncurbed  remain 
The  natural  yearnings  of  impulsive  souls. 
Fair,  as  when  Iris'  many  tinted  bow 
Transforms  the  weeping  cloud  to  sparkling  dew,. 
So  on  the  murky  veil  of  sorrow  glow 
Consoling  flashes  of  celestial  blue. 

Alcides  once,  obeying  the  behest 
Of  an  unworthy  master,  went  in  quest 
Of  all  the  perils  which  on  life  attend  ; 
Strangled  the  lion,  laid  the  hydra  stark. 
Nor  feared  to  enter  Charon's  dreadful  bark. 
While  yet  in  life,  to  liberate  his  friend. 
And  all  the  miseries  mankind  which  rack 
The  unforgiving  Goddess  loved  to  place 
Upon  her  enemy's  long-suff"ering  back 
Until  completed  was  his  earthly  race. 

Until  the  God,  shedding  his  worldly  gui.se. 
Renounces  man,  and  seeks  the  flaming  skies,, 
Quafiing  th'  entrancing  ether  at  its  birth. 
Rejoicing  in  his  new-born  power  of  flight 
Upward  he  mounts,  and  up,  till  lost  to  sight 
Is  every  vision  which  recalls  the  earth. 
His  ears  transfigured,  revel  in  the  strains 
Which  from  the  portals  of  Olympus  roll, 
And  with  a  just  relief  once  more  he  drains 
The  heavenly  nectar  from  a  heavenly  bowL 


228 


PARABLES  AND  RIDDLES. 


A  bridge  there  is  of  pearls,  that  marches 
Over  a  grey  and  darksome  mere  : 
One  instant  served  to  build  its  arches 
And  raise  them  to  the  giddiest  sphere. 

Behold  the  tallest  pennons  steering 
Untrammelled  'neath  its  springing  height ; 
No  fardel  may  it  bear,  appearing, 
As  you  approach,  to  fade  from  sight. 

'Twas  born  'mid  flood  and  demolition, 
Then  dwindled  as  the  streams  were  checked- 
That  bridge,  say,  where  is  its  position  ? 
Who  was  its  skilful  architect  ?  ^ 


II. 

It  bears  thee  miles  and  miles  away. 

And  yet  it  never  leaves  its  place  ; 

No  pinions  has  it  to  display. 

Yet  wafts  thee  through  the  realms  of  space. 

Its  speed  no  vessel  can  excel 

Which  ever  wandering  sailor  bore, 

And  o'er  the  ocean's  angry  swell 

Like  thought  it  leaps  from  shore  to  shore  ; 

Demands  one  moment,  and  no  more.^ 

^  The  Rainbow.  '^  The  Telescope,  or  Imagination. 

229 


PARABLES  AND  RIDDLES. 

III. 

On  an  illimitable  mead 
Sheep  silver  white  in  thousands  graze  ; 
And  where  to-day  we  see  them  feed, 
There  have  they  been  since  ancient  days. 

They  never  age,  and  mildly  quaff 
Life  from  a  ne'er-exhausted  burn  ; 
A  shepherd  tends  them,  and  his  staff 
Presents  a  crescent  silver  horn. 

As  through  the  golden  gates  they  press 
His  precious  flock  he  nightly  counts, 
And  never  has  a  lamb  the  less 
Although  the  steep  so  oft  he  mounts. 

A  dog  controls  the  wandering  train, 

A  lusty  ram  points  out  the  way  : 

What  is  that  flock  ?     Canst  thou  explain  ? 

And  who  the  careful  shepherd  ? — Say  !  ^ 

IV. 

A  house  there  is  of  lordly  mien, 

Ethereal  walls  its  roof  sustain, 

No  passer  by  is  ever  seen. 

And  in  its  precincts  none  remain. 

Constructed  on  heroic  lines, 

'Tis  finished  by  an  artist  hand. 

And  for  the  lamp  which  through  it  shines 

Itself  provides  the  glowing  brand. 

Its  ceiling  is  like  crystal  clear, 

Composed  of  one  translucent  stone  ; 

Yet  did  its  builder  ne'er  appear  : — 

Say,  is  that  wondrous  builder  known  ?  ^ 

The  Moon  and  Stars.  -  Earth  and  Heaven. 

230 


PARABLES  AND  RIDDLES. 


Two  buckets,  hanging-  side  by  side, 

Over  a  well  depend  : 

If  to  the  surface  one  you  guide, 

The  other  will  descend. 

Alternate  on  the  rope  they  pull, 

Now  one  and  then  the  other  full, 

And  while  you  take  a  sip  from  this, 

That  is  immersed  in  the  abyss. 

The  cooling  draught  for  which  you  sigh 

Together  they  can  ne'er  supply.^ 


VI 


This  picture  dost  thou  recognise 
Which  its  own  lustrous  light  provides, 
Assumes  an  ever  changing  guise, 
Yet  constant  and  undimmed  abides  ? 
'Tis  compassed  in  the  smallest  space, 
Its  framework  is  the  narrowest  bound. 
Yet  all  dimensions  leave  their  trace. 
And  through  it  everything  is  found. 

Then  give  this  crystal  gem  a  name. 
Its  worth  all  precious  stones  transcends  ; 
It  blazes,  yet  without  a  flame. 
And  all  the  world  it  comprehends. 
The  very  heaven  is  portrayed 
Within  that  little  magic  ring, 
And  visions  which  its  zone  invade 
Still  fairer  from  the  circle  spring.^ 

Day  and  Night.  2  xhe  Eye. 

231 


PARABLES  AND  RIDDLES. 


VII. 

A  structure  built  in  days  of  yore  ! 
No  house  it  is,  nor  yet  a  fane. 
Ride  for  a  hundred  days  or  more 
To  girdle  it — the  task  is  vain  ! 

While  generations  passed  away 
It  braved  the  stress  of  storm  and  time ; 
It  courts  the  sky-roofed  ocean  spray, 
And  cloudward  its  free  turrets  climb. 

In  no  vainglory  was  it  reared, 
It  serves  to  cherish  and  protect. 
Its  like  on  earth  has  ne'er  appeared, 
Yet  human  was  its  architect.^ 

VIII. 

Of  all  the  cruel  serpent  race 
One,  of  no  earthly  breed, 
Is  noted  for  the  foremost  place 
In  fury  and  in  speed. 

Its  voice  in  awful  accents  swells 
When  threatening  to  strike, 
And  with  one  crashing  blow  it  fells 
Rider  and  horse  alike. 

The  highest  summits  it  affects  ; 
Bars  are  of  no  avail, 
No  castle  'gainst  its  wrath  protects, 
It  loves  a.  coat  of  mail. 

1  The  Great  Wall  of  China. 
232 


PARABLES  AND  RIDDLES. 

It  splits  in  twain  like  brittle  reeds 
The  tallest,  stoutest  tree  ; 
And  triple  brass  it  lightly  kneads, 
However  hard  it  be. 

This  monster,  which  such  dread  inspires, 
But  once  its  threat  fulfils  : 
In  its  own  generated  fires 
Dissolving,  as  it  kills. ^ 

IX. 

We  number  six,  and  owe  our  birth 
And  training  to  no  common  pair  : 
Our  sire  was  ever  full  of  mirth, 
Our  mother  was  a  slave  to  care. 

Some  of  our  worth  to  each  we  owe — 
Softness  to  her,  lustre  to  him — 
Round  you  in  circling  dance  we  go, 
And,  ever  young,  we  lightly  skim. 

All  dark  secluded  nooks  we  hate, 

And  revel  in  the  light  of  day  ; 

The  world  itself  we  animate 

And  charm  with  our  mysterious  sway. 

We  come  with  Springtime's  earliest  breath, 
And  its  inspiring  numbers  tell  ; 
We  shrink  from  the  domain  of  death. 
For  all  around  us  life  must  well. 

None  with  our  succour  can  dispense, 
When  men  are  happy,  we  are  by. 
Talk  of  a  king's  magnificence — 
'Tis  we  the  dignity  supply  !  ^ 

^  Lightning.  2  The  Six  Primary  Colours. 


PARABLES  AND  RIDDLES. 

X. 

Although  inadequately  prized, 
Yet  suited  to  the  greatest  king, 
Like  a  keen  sword,  it  is  devised 
To  violate. — What  is  that  thing  ? 

Though  wounding  oft,  no  blood  it  sheds. 
Makes  many  rich,  takes  nought  by  stealth  ; 
Earth's  surface  it  has  overspread, 
And  brought  it  happiness  and  health. 

Kingdoms  have  risen  through  its  might, 
The  oldest  cities  it  could  rear  ; 
The  torch  of  war  it  ne'er  did  light. 
And  happy  they  who  hold  it  dear  !  ^ 

XI. 

I  dwell  in  a  rigorous  mansion  of  flint, 

And  quietly  sleeping  I  lie 

Till  the  impact  of  iron  impresses  a  dint. 

When  forth  in  a  moment  I  hie. 

Invisible  first,  I  was  little  and  weak. 

With  a  puff  you  might  blow  me  away  ; 

One  dew-drop  could  smother  me  just  in  a  freak  ; 

But  my  pinions  soon  obtain  play. 

If  my  powerful  sister  but  come  to  mine  aid, 

I  will  spread  in  my  wrath  till  the  world  is  afraid.^ 

XII. 

A  dial  is  my  coursing  ground  ; 
I  rever  take  a  moment's  rest  ; 
Small  is  my  orbit,  and  its  bound 
Were  by  a  pair  of  hands  compressed. 

^  The  Ploughshare.  ^  ^  Spark  from  Flint  and  Steel 

234 


PARABLES  AND  RIDDLES. 

Yet  swift  as  arrow  from  a  bow, 

Swift  as  the  tempest  roars  through  space, 

Full  many  a  thousand  miles  I  go 

Ere  I  complete  my  little  race.^ 

XIII. 

A  bird  it  is,  which  cleaves  the  air 
Easily  as  the  eagles  soar ; 
It  is  a  fish,  which  can  compare 
With  no  sea-monster  known  before  ; 
It  is  an  elephant,  which  holds 
Whole  battlements  upon  its  back, 
And  it  recalls  the  sinuous  folds 
Which  circle  round  the  spider's  track. 
And  when  its  pointed  iron  fangs 
Have  found  a  holding  deep  and  fast, 
Upright  and  balanced  well,  it  hangs, 
Braving  th'  infuriated  blast.  ^ 

1  The  Shadow  on  the  Sun-Diah 

2  The  Ship. 


235 


THE  WALK. 


Hail  to  thee  !    roseate  hill,  thou  luminous  peak  of  the 
mountain, 
Welcome  to  thee,  good  Sun,  spreading  thy  bountiful 
rays. 
Hail  to  the  bustling  plain,    and  to  you,  ye  murmuring 
lindens, 
Hail  the  melodious  air  sighing  the  branches  among. 
Hail   to   thee,     azure    serene,    whose    limitless  canopy 
shimmers 
Over   the    brown    hill    side,  over    the  newly    green 
wood — 
Over   me  too,    who  at  length  escaping  my  'prisoning 
chamber 
And  everlasting  talk,  joyfully  summon  thine  aid. 
Softly  thine  odorous  breath  pervades  and  quickens  my 
forces, 
And  a  clear  flood  of  light  strengthens  my  famishing 
eye. 
Many  and  strongly  defined  are  the  various  hues  on  the 
meadows. 
But  the  delightful  array  yields  an  harmonious  blend. 
Freely  I    enter  the  fields  with  their    rolling  carpet  of 
verdure  ; 
Through  the  enchanting  green  winds  a  scarce  visible 
path. 

236 


THE  WALK. 

Round  me  the  bee  is  busily  humming,  and  skirting  the 
clover 
Slowly  the  butterfly  floats,  poised  on  ambiguous  wing. 
Glowing  strike  the  rays  of  the  sun, the  Zephyrs  are  idle, 
Only  the  song  of  the  lark  sounds  in  the  uppermost 
air. 
Ah  !  but  anon  in  the  copse  a  rustle  is  heard,  and  the 
alders 
Bow   their  heads,   and  the  wind  swells  through  the 
silvery  reeds. 

Lo  !  I  plunge  into  night ;  and  rich  in  ambrosial  odours, 
Beeches  over  my  head  tent  me  in  glorious  shade. 
"Here  in  the  depths  of  the  wood  the  landscape  has  sud- 
denly vanished, 
And  I  steadily  mount,  led  by  a  sinuous  path. 
Here  and  there  by  stealth  through  the  leafy  trellis  of 
branches 
Pierces  a  wandering  ray,  showing  the  heavens  above. 
Suddenly  rises  the  veil,  and  the  opening  glades  of  the 
forest 
Bring  my  startled  eyes  back  to  the  glory  of  day. 
Far  as  the  eye  can  reach  the  scene  lies  open  before  me. 
And  yon  hazy-blue  chain  governs  the  limits  of  earth. 
Down  at  the  foot  of  the  hill  which  opens  steeply  below 
me 
_»„   Bubbles  a  mirror-like  stream  eddying  merrily  by. 
Both  at  my  feet  and  above  I  gaze  on  the  limitless  ether, 

Dizzily  look  up  above,  glance  with  a  shudder  below. 
But  from  the  heights  above  to  the  everlasting  abysses 
Reaches  a  guarded  stair  guiding  the  wanderer  down. 
Smiling  before  my  eyes  are  the  banks  in  their  wealthy 
abundance. 
And  the  whole  blooming  vale  tells  of  industrious  toil. 
237 


THE  WALK. 

Look  at  the  rows  which  mark  th'  extent  of  the  country- 
man's holding, 
Woven  by  Ceres'  self  into  the  tapestried  field, 
jindly  decree  of  the  law,  of  the  Deity  watching  above  us, 
Since  from  the  brazen  world  charity  faded  away. 
But  with  a  bolder  sweep,  dividing  the  orderly  pastures. 
Sometimes  lost  in  the  wood,  now  on  the  slope  of  the 
hill. 
Glitters   a   silvery    streak,    the    broad    highway  of  the 
country, 
And  the  rafts  glide  by  down  the  immaculate  stream. 
Multiplied  over  the  plain    the   bells  of  the  cattle  are 
tinkling, 
And  the  herdsman's  song  echoes  the  only  reply. 
Villages  brighten  the  stream,  and  hamlets  peep  through 
the  thickets. 
Others  behind  the  hill  right  on  the  precipice  hang. 
Loving  feelings  exist  'twixt  man   and  his  neighbourly 
acres 
When  his  own  peaceful    fields  compass  his  humble 
abode. 
Like  a  familiar  friend  the  vine  climbs  in  at  the  window, 
.^  And  an  aff'ectionate  bough  circles  the  house  in  its  arm. 
Fortunate   race  of  the  fields,    still  all   unawakened  to 
freedom. 
Sharing  alike   with   thy   plains    all   that  the  law  can 
bestow. 
Bound  are  thy  limited  hopes  by  the  peaceable  cycles  of 
harvest. 
And  thy  life  rolls  on  e'en  as  the  task  of  a  day  ! — 

—But  what  steals  away  this  charming    prospect?     A 
spirit 
All  unknown  to  me  spreads  o'er  the  alien  plain. 
238 


THE  WALK. 

Lightly  it  sets  apart  what  erst  was  happily  blended, 

Like  consorts  with  like  ;  kin  is  attracted  to  kin. 
Rank  I  see  maintained  :  the  proud  generation  of  poplars, 
""""    Ranged  in  orderly  pomp,  marches  with  dignified  air  ; 
A^All  is  ordained  by  rule,  all  proves  considered  intention, 
And  this  disciplined  train  points  to  the  master  of  all. 
Gaudily   blaze  from  afar   the    glittering    domes  in  his 
honour, 
Out  of  the  rocky  gorge  rises  the  pinnacled  town. 
Into  the  desert  without  the  fauns  of  the  forest  are  driven, 

But  devotion  lends  loftier  life  to  the  stone. 
Closer  the  bonds  are  drawn  uniting  man  to  his  fellows. 
And  a  more  active  world  rolls  through  his  orbit  of 

.^^^ n.^e.  

See  !  how  tEe~envious  forces  inflame  in  the  fiery  con- 
test : 
Much  their  strife  achieves  :  ah  !  but  their  unity  more. 
Thousands    of    eager    hands    by    a    single    spirit    are 
quickened, 
Deep    in    a    thousand    breasts  glows  an  unanimous 
heart  ; 
Glows  for  native  land  and  the  honoured  laws  ^f  their 
fathers  ; 
Here  in  the  sacred  soil  rest  their  illustrious  bones. 
Down  from  heaven  to  earth   descend  the  blessed  Im- 
mortals, 
And    in    the    favoured    site    plant     their     decorous 
abode. 
Gracious  on  earth   they  appear,  distributing  heavenly 
bounties  ; 
Ceres  gives  the  plough,  Hermes  an  anchor  bestows. 
Bacchus  presents  the   grape,    Minerva  the  flourishing 
olive  ; 
And  with  the  warlike  steed  mighty  Poseidon  appears. 

239 


THE  WALK. 

Cybele's  lions  are  yoked  to  the  pole  of  the  peaceable 
wagon, 
In  through  the  gate,  as  a  friend,  passes  the  Mother 
of  all. 
Sacred  stones  !  From  you  have  the  roots  of  humanity 
issued. 
Carrying  morals  and   art  down  to  the  isles  of   the 
sea. 
Here  at  these  friendly  gates  their  judgment  sages  have 
uttered  ; 
Heroes,  rushing  to    arms,  fought    for    the    Gods  of 
their  home. 
High    on   the   battlements  stood    the  mothers  nursing 
their  infants. 
And,  till  lost  to  the  view,  gazed  on  the  warrior  train. 
Then  they  knelt  in  prayer,  and  prostrate  in  front  of  the 
altars. 
Victory   asked   and  fame,    begged    for    your  happy 
return. 
Victory,  honour,  were  yours  ;  but  there  came  back  only 
the  glory. 
And  the  pathetic  stone  renders  account  of  your  deeds. 
*'  An  if  thou  comest  to  Sparta,  proclaim,  good  traveller, 
yonder 
How   thou   hast   seen   us    lie  here    where  our  duty 
ordained." 
Rest,  ye  beloved  in  peace  !  by  the  blood  ye  so  cheer- 
fully sprinkled, 
Th'  olive  thrives,  and  the  seed  thanks  to  your  agony 
/  swells. 

Proud  of  its  own    free  rights,  untrammelled  industry 
prospers. 
Out  of  the  reeds  in  the  brook  signs  the  coerulean 
God. 

240 


THE  WALK. 

Crashes  the  axe  on  the  tree,  you  may  hear  the  lament 
of  the  Dryad, 
High  from  the  mountain  crest  masses  are  thundering 
down. 
Out   of  its    setting   of   rock  the  stone  by  the  lever  is 
shifted. 
And  the  miner  descends  into  the  bowels  of  earth. 
Ring  the  ponderous  tones  of  the  hammer  on  Mulciber's 
anvil, 
Splutter  the  sparks  of  steel  under  the  sinewy  hand. 
Gaily  the  golden  flax  winds  round  the  rollicking  distaff, 
'Twixt  the  threads  of  warp  whizzes  the  shuttle  along. 
Out   in   the    roadstead   cries   the  pilot,  and  resting  at 
anchor, 

Ships  lie  .ready  to  bear  fruits  of  our  lah(iur_abroad  ; 

Others   arrive   meanwhile,  the    gifts  of   the   foreigner 
yielding. 
Bearing  on  each  high  mast  fluttering  emblems  of  joy. 
See  how  the  markets  swarm,  the  centre  of  active  exist- 
ence. 
Where  such  a  medley  of  tongues  puzzles  the  wonder- 
ing ear. 
On  to  the  neighbouring  quays  the  merchant  discharges 
the  harvest 
^_     Born  of  a  glowing  soil,  nurtured  in  Africa's  sun.     —  — 
All  that  Arabia  sends,  the  products  of  Ultima  Thule, 

All  Amalthea  receives  into  her  bountiful  horn. 
Godlike  children  are  born  to  fortune  with  talent  united, 

Weaned  upon  freedom's  breast  flourishes  every  art. 
With  realistic  life  the  painter  gladdens  the  eyesight. 
And    by  the    chisel    inspired,   murmurs    the    animate 
stone. 
Counterfeit  heavens  repose  on  slender  Ionian  pillars, 
And  a  Pantheon  includes  all  the  Olympian  host. 

241  R 


THE  WALK. 

Light  as  the  rainbow's  leap  into  space,  or  the  feathering 
arrow, 
Springs  the  arch   of  the  bridge  over  the  blustering 
stream. 
-/-But  in  his  silent  cell,  designing  significant  emblems, 
{    Muses  the  sage,  and  gropes  after  the  secret  of  life  ; 
Tests  the  power  of  matter,  the  loves  and  hates  of  the 
loadstone. 
Follows  the  wavelets  of  sound,  chases  in  ether  the  ray, 
leeks  a  familiar  law  in  the  terrible  marvels  of  hazard, 

Seeks  th'  eternal  Pole,  all  apparitions  defied. 
Letters  lend  a  form  and  voice  to  unuttered  reflections 
Down   through   the  centuries'  course,  borne  on  the 
eloquent  page. 
So  from  the  wondering  eye  rolls  back  the  mist  of  illusion, 
And  the  creations  of  night  yield  to  the  graces  of  day. 
Man  is  bursting  his  bonds. — The  happier  !     So  that  he 
break  not 
With  the  shackles  of  fear,  also  the  bridle  of  shame. 
Reason  freedom  claims,  demands  with  inordinate  ardour, 
Shakes  off  Nature's  yoke,  eager  to  wander  alone, 
how,  caught  in  the  storm,  the  vessels  are  dragging 
their  anchors 
Far  from  the  sheltering  land  :  off  they  are  borne  by 
the  tide. 
Into  eternity  swept,  the  coast-line  vanished  behind  her, 
Mastless    rolls    the    bark  high  on  the  mountainous 
wave. 
I   Lost  in  the  clouds,  the  Wain's    immutable   stars    are 
r-  extinguished. 

Nothing  abides,  and  doubt  lurks  in  the  bosom  of  God. 
Banished  is  truth  from  speech,  from  life  all  faith  and 
religion. 
And,  as  it  fouls  the  lips,  even  the  oath  is  a  lie. 
242 


THE  WALK. 

Into  the  innermost  realms  of  the  heart,  of  private  affec- 
tion, 
Severing   friend   from    friend,    forces    the   toady   his 
way. 
Innocence    shrinks    from   the   eye  of   treachery  leering 
upon  her. 
And  with  a  poisoned  shaft  slays  the  calumnious  tongue. 
In  the  dishonoured  breast  coarse,  venal  opinion  hovers, 

Love  casts  rudely  aside  sensitive  feeling  and  grace. 
Thy  fair  badges,   O  Truth,  are  assumed  by  fraud  and 
deception, 
And  they  dare  to  pollute  Nature's  adorable  tones — 
Tones  which  the  suffering  heart  in   its  instants  of  plea- 
sure devises  ; 
cuck'-untimely  dumb,  sentiment  hardly  exists. 
Justice  vaunts  on  the    Bench,    unanimity  brags   in  the 
cottage. 
Only  the  ghost  of  the  law  sits  on  the  throne  of  the 
King. 
Long  may  the  mummy  endure  ;  for  years  to  come,  and 
for  ages 
May  its  deceitful  form  pass  for  the  fulness  of  life. 
Until  Nature  awakes  ;  and,  with  hand  of  heavy  correc- 
tion, 
'Gainst  this  structure  of  straw  time  and  necessity  rise. 
Like  a  tigress  who,  burst  through  the  iron  bars  of  her 
prison. 
Suddenly,  terribly,  dreams  of  the  Numidian  groves, 
So  in  the  madness  of  crime  and  want  humanity  rises^ 
And  in  the  burnt-out  town  seeks  for  the  Nature  of 
yore. 
Oh  !  then  open,  ye  walls,  restore  to  the  prisoner  free- 
dom ! 
Let  him  turn  with  relief  back  to  his  pastures  again  ! 
243  R  2 


THE  WALK. 

— But,  where  am  I  ? — The  path  is  lost,  and  dreadful 
abysses, 
Yawning   before    and    behind,    hinder    my    faltering 
steps. 
Left  behind  is  the  garden's  and  hedges,  familiar  escort, 

And  there  fades  from  sight  every  vestige  of  man. 
Matter  alone  remains  from  which   life's  germs  are  de- 
veloped. 
And  th'  unwrought  basalt  waits  for  a  fashioning  hand. 
Down  through  the  channels  of  rock  the  torrent,  noisily 
plunging. 
Under  the  roots  of  the  trees  angrily  forces  a  way 
Dreary  is  all  around  ;  in  the  desolate  ocean  above  me 

Only  the  eagle  soars,  heaven  uniting  with  earth. 
Never  a  quivering  air  buoys  up  to  my  lonely  position 
The  old  sounds  which  announce  human  affliction  and 

joy. 

Am   I    really   alone? — In  thine  arms,  on  thy  glorious 
bosom. 
Nature,  again  I  repose  :  and — it  was  only  a  dream, 
Which  so  filled   me  with  awe  :   with  life    thus  terribly 
pictured, 
And  with  the  wreck  of  the  vale  happier  visions  return. 
Purer  my  life  I  receive  from  thine  immaculate  altars. 
And  am  cheered  once  more  by  the  bright  promise  of 
youth. 
Will  is  for  ever  changing  its  laws  and  purpose  ;  and  ever. 

Clad  in  a  manifold  garb,  deeds  in  a  circle  revolve. 
But  in  perennial  youth  and  eternally  varying  beauty. 
Nature,  thou  honourest  still  all  the  good   precepts  of 
old; 
Ever  preservest  intact  in  thy  loyal  keeping,  for  man- 
hood, 
That  which  childhood  or  youth  to  thy  fidelity  trusts  ; 
244 


THE  WALK. 

Nurturest    at    one    breast     the    changing     cycles    of 
ages. 
Under  the  same  blue  vault,  on  an  identical  sward 
Keighbourly,    hand    in    hand,  are    the    differing   races 
united, 
And  old  Homer's  sun  blinks  upon  us  with  a  smile. 


«/!j-5^' 


T'' 


„u 


245 


THE    SONG    OF    THE    BELL. 

Vivos  voco :  Mortuos  plaugo :  Fulgura  frango. 

Firmly  bedded  in  the  soil 

Stands  the  mould  of  hardened  clay. 

Come,  my  lads,  nor  spare  your  toil 
This  must  be  a  bell  to-day  ! 
From  the  burning  brow 
Honest  sweat  must  flow. 
Work,  ere  it  successful  prove, 
Needs  a  blessing  from  above. 

Anent  the  task  which  we  intend, 
An  earnest  word  may  be  in  place  ; 
When  good  advice  and  labour  blend 

le  working  hours  slip  by  apace. 
So  let  us  now  the  evils  scan 
Which  from  half-heartedness  arise  : 
We  must  perforce  condemn  that  man 
Whose  work  is  thoughtless  exercise. 
For  what  does  intellect  appeal. 
The  fairest  gift  that  man  commands, 
But  that  his  inmost  heart  should  feel 
For  the  creation  of  his  hands  ? 

Bring  the  logs  of  pine, 
Crisp  and  free  from  damp  : 
The  fiery  tongues  confine. 
Their  spreading  forces  cramp. 
246 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  BELL. 

Brew  the  copper  strong  ! 

Pass  the  tin  along  ! 

Let  the  tough  bell-metal  flow 

Down  with  justly-tempered  glow  ! 

This  form  in  earth's  deep  moulding  traced. 

And  mastered  by  th'  obedient  flame, 

High  in  the  belfry  tower  placed, 

Anon  shall  testify  our  fame. 

There  shall  it  hang  till  far-off"  years. 

Soothing  the  ear  with  notes  sublime, 

Ready  to  wail  with  those  in  tears. 

Or  with  the  sacred  choir  to  chime. 


The  fate  which  changing  fortunes  brings 
To  earth's  poor  children  here  below 
Shall  strike  its  metal  crest,  and  ring 
Abroad  its  news  of  weal  or  woe. 


Blisters  white  the  surface  wrinkle  : 
Good  !  the  fusion  is  complete  ! 
On  the  metal  soda  sprinkle  ; 
That  will  expedite  the  *'  heat." 

From  all  bubbles  clear 

Must  the  blend  appear, 
That  with  pure  metallic  sound 
Clear  its  voice  may  echo  round. 
With  joyful  clash  and  measure  gay 
It  peals  to  hail  the  darling  child, 
Already  launched  on  life's  rough  way 
While  still  in  slumber's  arms  beguiled. 
In  time's  dark  bosom  still  concealed. 
His  lot  reposes  unrevealed  : 
The  golden  dawn  of  youth  so  fair 
Is  guarded  by  a  mother's  care. — 
247 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  BELL. 

With  lightning-  speed  the  years  roll  by, 
Th'  ambitious  youth  the  maiden  leaves, 
The  stormy  world  without  to  roam  ; 
And  having  gained  what  travel  gives, 
Returns,  a  stranger,  to  his  home  ; 

F>^  glorious  in  her  pride  of  youth, 

picture  from  some  heavenly  land. 
Warm  with  the  tell-tale  blush  of  truth, 
.JHe  sees  the  maid  before  him  stand. 

A  nameless  yearning  binds  his  heart. 
He  wanders  to  and  fro  alone, 
Tears  to  his  eyes  unbidden  start. 
He  hastes  his  comrades'  haunts  to  shun. 
Bashful  he  marks  her  every  trace, 
Rejoices  in  her  lightest  word, 
And  culls,  his  dear  one's  brow  to  grace, 
The  fairest  blooms  the  fields  afford. 

Oh  !  sweet  desire,  oh  !  hopes  of  bliss, 
Those  golden  days  of  early  love  ! 
When  heart  is  bathed  in  happiness. 
And  eyes  see  straight  to  heaven  above. 

Ah  !  could  they  last  for  ever  green. 
Those  days  of  early  love  serene. 

Ha  !  the  tubes  are  browning  now  ! 
I  must  plunge  this  rod  to  try. 
When  we  see  a  vitrous  glow. 
Then  the  moment's  drawing  nigh. 
Now,  my  lads,  your  best ! 
Quick  !  the  mixture  test  : 
'Tis  a  favourable  sign 
If  the  hard  and  soft  combine. 

For  when  the  stern  and  tender  meet, 
And  jointly  one  another  greet, 
248 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  BELL. 

The  tone  is  good  and  clear  and  strong*. 
Let  him  who  heart  to  heart  would  bind 
Assure  a  bond  of  such  a  kind. 
Illusion's  brief,  repentance  long  ! 

Brightly  gleam  the  bridal  tresses 
And  the  garland  in  her  hair, 
As  the  merry  church  bell  presses 
All  around  the  joy  to  share. 
But,  alas  !  life's  month  of  May 
Ends  with  this  life's  dearest  prize  : 
Veil  and  girdle  mark  to-day  : 
Then  the  fair  illusion  flies. 

When  passion  is  past. 
Love  still  must  abide  ; 
Though  the  flower  be  downcast, 
The  fruit  swells  in  its  pride. 

The  man  must  arise  ^ 

And  go  forth  into  life. 

To  labour  and  strife. 

To  plant  and  to  toil. 

To  trick  and  despoil ; 

He  must  risk  and  be  bold, 

Good  fortune  to  hold. 

So  gifts  will  be  showered  in  infinite  measure. 

And   his   store-chambers   swell  with   the    costliest 

treasure. 
The    rooms    become   larger,    the   house   grows   in 
size. 

And  within  holds  her  sway 

The  modest  young  wife. 

The  mother  of  children. 

She  is  wisely  severe 

In  the  family  sphere, 
249 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  BELL. 

And  teaches  the  maidens, 

And  governs  the  boys, 

And  plies  without  end 

Her  diligent  hand, 

Increasing  the  gains 

By  her  well-ordered  pains  ; 
She  charges  with  treasures  her  sweet-scented  store 
And  delights  in  the  spindle's  industrious  roar  : 
The  clean,  polished  cupboards  she  carefully  packs 
Full  of  glistening  wool  and  of  snowy-white  flax  : 
All  the  polish  and  gloss  she  maintains  at  their  best, 
And  never  takes  rest. 


And  the  father  with  cheerful  glance 

Looks  from  his  lofty  gable, 

Reckoning  up  his  happy  chance. 

As  the  well-piled  garner  floors  he  sees. 

And  the  posts  supporting  the  laden  trees, 

The  barn  and  granary  bursting  with  grain. 

And  the  rolling  billows  of  corn  on  the  plain  ; 

And  he  boasts  as  he  looks  around  : 

'*  Firm  as  the  solid  ground. 

Against  misfortune's  hand 

The  pride  of  my  house  shall  stand  !  '* 

But  the  fickle  powers  of  Fate 
No  eternal  bond  create, 
And  misfortune  strides  apace. 


Now  the  cast  may  be  begun  : 
Nicely  hollowed  is  the  breach  : 
But  before  we  let  it  run. 
Let  us  pious  thoughts  beseech. 
250 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  BELL. 

Knock  the  plug"  away  ! 

Bless  us,  God,  we  pray  ! 
Into  the  curling  ears  the  stream 
Spouts  hissing  with  its  fiery  gleam. 


Valued  is  the  mighty  flame, 

Watched  by  man,  confined,  and  tame  ; 

Little  progress  man  had  made 

_B.ut  for  its  all-mastering  aid.  ^ 

But  fearful  lengths  its  power  attains 
When,  having  shaken  loose  its  chains. 
It  takes  its  own  direction  wild, 
Nature's  free,  ungoverned  child. 
Its  course  none  can  arrest, 
Its  fury  none  withstand  : 
Down  the  crowded  street  its  crest 
Whirls  like  a  flaming  brand. 
For  the  elements  detest 
The  work  of  mortal  hand. 
From  the  cloud 
Blessings  proceed, 
The  rain  we  need  ; 
From  the  clouds,  as  they  clash, 
The  lightnings  flash. 
- — ^'    From  the  tower  I  hear  it  sigh  ! 
The  storm  is  nigh  ! 
The  heavens  are  red, 
Red  as  gore. 
The  daylight  has  fled. 
"  Hear  the  uproar  ! 
Up  the  street !  Quick  ! 
Steam  rises  thick  ! 
The  flaming  pillar  flickers  higher. 

251 


I  HE  SONG  OF  THE  BELL. 

Up  the  streets  and  down  the  lanes 

Whirlwind  speed  the  fire-tongue  gains. 

Parched  as  from  an  oven's  back 

Glows  the  air  ;  the  rafters  crack  ; 

Door-posts  start  and  windows  shake. 

Children  scream,  their  mothers  quake. 

Cattle  groan, 

Their  sheds  o'erthrown. 
Men  now  help,  now  take  to  flight, 
Clear  as  noonday  is  the  night. 
From  hand  to  hand,  an  endless  chain, 
With  might  and  main 
The  buckets  pass  ;  in  arches  high 
The  ready  streams  of  water  fly. 
With  growing  force  the  storm  roars  by, 
JFans  the  flame's  increasing  power, 
Drives  the  crackling  tongues  to  scour 
Trees,  and  fruit,  and  all  the  store 
Gathered  on  the  barn's  dry  floor. 
And  as  if  its  desperate  throes 
Would  the  solid  earth  excite 
To  partake  its  maddened  flight, 
Up  to  very  heaven  it  grows 
With  giant  bound. 

Hopeless  and  stunned, 
The  man  must  bow  to  heaven's  decree, 
The  ruin  of  his  labour  see. 
And  idly  mark  the  blows. 


Clean  burnt  out 
Is  the  place. 

Everywhere  the  tempest's  trace  ! 
In  the  ruined  window-frames 

252 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  BELL. 

Dwells  despair, 

And  the  clouds  of  heaven  stare 

Straight  in. 

One  g-lance 
He  cannot  check 
At  the  wreck 

Of  his  romance  ; 
Then  the  brave  man  his  staff  resumes. 

No  matter  what  the  fire  has  cost, 
One  blessing  can  for  all  atone  ; 
He  counts  his  darlings  one  by  one, 

And  finds  that  no  dear  face  is  lost. 

Now  the  mould  is  charged  : — for,  see  ! 

All  has  vanished  in  the  soil. 
Will  the  end  propitious  be. 
To  reward  our  skill  and  toil  ? 
Anticipate  the  worst ! 
Suppose  the  mould  should  burst ! 
While  we  hope  our  triumph  won, 
Possibly  the  harm  is  done. 
To  the  dark  breast  of  sacred  Earth 
Our  handiwork  we  here  confide. 
In  it  the  farmer  dares  to  hide 
-His  seed,  and  hopes  to  watch  its  birth 
And  heaven-blest  growth  with  eager  pride. 
But  costlier  seed  than  this  we  place 

With  tears  in  Earth's  maternal  womb 
And  ask  for  it  redoubled  grace 
When  It  arises  from  its  tomb. 
From  the  Minster 

Tolls  the  bell. 
Slow  and  sad, 
A  solemn  knell. 

253 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  BELL. 

Gently  guide  the  muffled  blows 
A  wanderer  to  her  last  reposev 

Ah  !  'tis  the  beloved  wife. 
Alas  !  It  is  the  faithful  mother, 
Whom  the  Prince  of  Darkness  charms 
From  her  husband's  loving  arms, 
From  the  throng  of  children  dear 
Which  she  bore  him  year  by  year, 
Whicü  with  tender  love  she  pressed 
To  her  faithful,  anxious  breast, 
l^las  !  The  gentle  ties  of  home 
Are  undone  for  evermore, 
For  she  dwells  where  shadows  roam 
Who  the  sweet  name.  Mother^  bore. 
Now  her  faithful  rule  is  wanting, 
Missing  is  her  watchful  care  ; 
Th'  orphaned  home,  her  place  supplanting,. 
Strange,  unloving  hearts  will  share. 

While  the  casting  cooler  grows. 
From  your  rigid  labour  cease  ;, 

As  the  happy  birds  repose, 
So  may  you  enjoy  your  ease. 

The  stars  peep  one  by  one  ; — 

His  spell  of  duty  done. 

The  workman  hails  the  vesper  chime  r 

The  master  knows  no  bounds  of  time. 

The  wanderer,  with  joyful  stride. 
Presses  through  the  forest  glades 
To  the  poor  cottage  of  his  pride. 
Homeward  wind  the  bleating  flocks,. 
And  the  herds 

Of  glossy,  deep-browed  kine, 
254 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  BELL. 

To  their  proper  stalls  going-, 

Anxiously  lowing. 

With  creaks  and  groans 

The  wagon  reels, 

Laden  with  corn. 

On  the  sheaves 

Of  coloured  leaves 

The  garland  lies  ; 

And  to  the  dance 

Each  youthful  reaper  flies. 
~"Street  and  market-place  grow  silentn 

Round  the  bright,  convivial  lamp 
^AUjthe  household  is  assembled, 

And  with  a  jar  the  town-gate  slams. 
Darkness  appears 

On  the  face  of  the  earth, 

But  the  confident  citizen  fears 

Not  the  night. 

Which  to  the  villain  dread  appears  ; 

Tor  the  eye  of  the  law  is  bright. 

Blessed  ordinance  of  heaven. 
Which  to  equals  here  has  given 
Will  to  render  mutual  aid. 
Which  our  town's  foundation  laid. 
Which  has  summoned  nature's  child 
From  his  field  and  forests  wild  ; 
And,  invading  man's  abode. 
Trained  him  to  a  gentler  code. 
And — a  triumph  yet  more  grand — 
Taught  the  love  of  Fatherland  ! 

Hands  are  raised  in  emulation 
One  another's  toil  to  share, 

255 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  BELL. 

And  with  eager  exultation 
Every  talent  is  laid  bare. 
Prompted  by  the  same  ambition, 
Man  with  master  freely  vies. 
Each  respects  his  own  position, 
And  the  scoffing"  tongue  defies. 
No  right  man  from  trouble  winces,. 
Blessings  round  true  labour  lurk  ; 
Dignity  suffices  princes. 
We  must  boast  our  handiwork. 

Holy  Peace, 
Divine  Accord, 
Never  wander 

From  this  happy  town  of  ours  ! 
Never  may  that  morning  break 
When  the  horrid  tongues  of  war 
This  calm  valley's  echoes  wake  : 
When  the  sky. 

Which  now  the  evening  rays  adorn 
With  rosy  beams. 

For  hamlet  and  for  town  shall  mourn,, 
And  blaze  with  lurid,  cruel  gleams  ! 

Come,  now  !  smash  the  outer  shell, 
(For  its  purpose  is  achieved) 
That  our  hearts  and  eyes  may  dwell 
On  the  form  therein  conceived. 

Swing  the  hammer  round  ! 
Off  the  fragments  bound  ! 

Ere  our  bell  we  can  unfold. 
We  must  sacrifice  the  mould. 

The  master's  hand  the  mould  may  break 
With  wise  discretion,  if  he  please  ; 
256 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  BELL. 

But  woe  !  if  with  a  fiery  wake 
The  glowing  bronze  its  freedom  seize  ! 
Raging  along  with  thund'rous  sound, 
It  bursts  the  poor  confining  shell, 
Belching  red-hot  destruction  round, 
As  though  it  rose  direct  from  hell. 

Where  rude,  unthinking  forces  reign, 
/-. — Earewell  to  gentle  comeliness  ; 

Peoples  who  their  own  freedom  gain 
May  never  hope  for  happiness. 
'Tis  fatal  when  within  a  town 
^._The  treacherous  tinder  piles  too  high  ; 
The  people  hurl  their  fetters  down, 
And  struggle  for  supremacy  ! 
Rebellion  to  the  bell-ropes  clings, 
Clashing  the  tongues  in  wild  caprice, 
To  arms  the  angry  tocsin  rings 
Where  used  to  float  the  chimes  of  peace. 


*The  streets  and  halls  return  the  cry  : — 
''  Equality  and  Liberty  !  " 
The  peaceful  burgher  flies  to  arms, 
And  cut-throat  bands  patrol  in  swarms. 

""With  beasts  the  womankind  compare, 
^nd  revel  in  each  hideous  jest ; 
With  tigrish  teeth  the  heart  they  tear 
From  their  opponent's  quivering  breast 
Reserve  and  modesty  are  gone, 
Nothing  is  sacred  or  sublime, 
Evil  holds  sway  on  virtue's  throne, 
And  nothing  bars  the  march  of  crime. 

*  An  allusion  to  the  French  Revolution. 

257  s 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  BELL. 

Tis  perilous  the  lion  to  teaze, 
Vindictive  is  the  tiger's  tongue, 
But  e'en  more  terrible  than  these 
Is  man  with  soul  possessed  of  wrong". 
Woe  be  to  him  who  lends  the  boon 
Of  heaven's  fair  torch-light  to  the  blind  ! 
It  cheers  him  not,  but  smoulders  on. 
Leaving  an  ashy  waste  behind. 

— God  has  brushed  away  my  fears  ! 
See  !  how  like  a  star  of  gold, 
Bright  and  smooth  the  core  appears 
As  we  strip  away  the  mould. 
The  sun  pours  down 
On  rim  and  crown, 
And  the  Arms  and  blazoned  shield 
Credit  to  the  artist  yield. 
Approach  !  and  see  ! 
Close  around,  each  worthy  mate, 
While  our  bell  we  consecrate  ; 
*'  Concordia  "  its  name  shall  be. 
Our  kindred  spirits  let  it  move 
To  unity  and  perfect  love. 

Let  this  henceforward  be  its  task — 
No  more  the  master-hand  would  ask  ! 
Above  the  earth's  tumultuous  roar 
The  vault  of  heaven  shall  hear  its  strain, 
Amid  the  thunders  it  shall  soar. 
And  border  on  the  starry  main  ; 
Shall  peal  like  the  celestial  voice 
Of  constellations  mild  and  clear. 
Which  in  their  Maker's  name  rejoice, 
And  welcome  each  revolving  year. 
258 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  BELL. 

■Only  of  lasting  themes  and  deep 
Its  consecrated  tongue  may  chime  : 
Its  strokes  the  hourly  watches  keep, 
And^mark  the  fleeting  steps  of  Time. 
^To  destiny  its  brazen  throat, 

Though  not  with  sympathy  endued. 
Shall  echo,  and  its  tone  denote 
The  course  of  life's  vicissitude. 
And  as  the  clamour  dies  away 
Which  filled  our  startled  ears  but  now. 
It  tells  us  of  the  world's  decay, 
-How  earthly  things  to  Fate  must  bow. 

Now  the  ropes  and  tackles  strain  ! 
Sway  the  bell  from  where  it  lies  ; 
Hoist  it  to  its  true  domain. 
Where  the  heaven-born  ether  sighs  ! 
Haul  !     Hoist  !     Sway  ! 
It  moves  !     'Tis  giving  way  ! 
May  it  bode  our  city's  fame, 
Peace  its  earliest  chime  proclaim  ! 


259  S2 


THE  POWER  OF  SONG. 

A  torrent  from  the  fissured  rocks 

With  all  the  din  of  thunder  rolls, 

The  solid  earth  its  impact  shocks, 

Before  it  bow  the  oaken  boles  ; 

Transfixed  with  a  voluptuous  fear, 

The  wanderer  listens  in  dismay  ; 

The  rock-bound  stream  bursts  on  his  ear — 

Yet  whence  it  flows  he  cannot  say. 

So  roll  impetuously  along 

The  unsuspected  floods  of  song. 

The  minstrel  shares  the  awful  might 
Of  those  who  forge  life's  tangled  chain. 
Who  can  his  magic  members  slight, 
And  who  ignore  his  wild  refrain  ? 
His  cry,  by  godlike  powers  sped, 
Appeals  to  each  impassioned  soul ; 
He  seeks  the  regions  of  the  dead, 
And  soars  to  where  the  heavens  roll. 
'Twixt  jest  and  earnest  he  can  sway 
Men's  minds,  and  all  the  gamut  play. 

As  when  into  a  scene  of  mirth 
Some  giant  apparition  strides — 
Some  phantom  of  mysterious  birth — 
And,  charged  with  dreadful  portents,  glides,, 
260 


THE  POWER  OF  SONG. 

The  earth's  exalted  recognise 
The  stranger  from  the  other  world, 
No  longer  senseless  revels  rise, 
And  every  mask  aside  is  hurled  ; 
For  falsehood  seeks  to  thrive  in  vain 
In  mighty  Truth's  triumphant  reign. 

And  so  man's  grievances  abate 
When  noble  song  enchants  his  ear  ; 
He  rises  to  a  God's  estate 
And  steps  into  the  heavenly  sphere. 
No  greater  are  the  Gods  than  he. 
No  earthly  thoughts  his  soul  molest ; 
From  all  distractions  he  is  free, 
No  fateful  vision  mars  his  rest. 
Smoothed  are  the  wrinkled  lines  of  care 
While  music's  charms  the  soul  ensnare. 

And  as,  after  heartbreaking  pain 
And  separation's  bitter  grief, 
The  child  repentant  seeks  again 
Upon  his  mother's  breast  relief. 
So  to  the  thoughts  of  early  days. 
When  innocence  was  yet  unstained. 
From  foreign  lands  and  foreign  ways 
Song  brings  the  wanderer  home,  regained, 
To  learn  in  Nature's  loving  school 
What  ne'er  was  taught  by  formal  rule. 


261 


WOMAN'S  WORTH. 

All  honour  to  women  !  They  kindly  adorn 
With  roses  from  heaven  poor  mortals  forlorn ; 
The  chaplets  of  love  they  deliciously  twine, 
Their  charm  is  enhanced  by  a  modest  attire 
As  they  piously  cherish  the  sensitive  fire 
Of  sentiment  on  its  immaculate  shrine. 

Man  strives  ever  to  outsoar 
Sober  fact's  material  chains, 
And  his  mind  with  restless  power 
O'er  the  sea  of  passion  strains  ; 
Never  is  his  soul  at  rest. 
In  futurity  he  gropes, 
To  the  stars  pursues  the  quest 
Of  his  visionary  hopes. 

But  woman,  with  looks  that  will  not  be  denied, 
Soon  summons  the  fugitive  back  to  her  side, 
And  bids  him  from  projects  of  wandering  cease. 
True  daughters  of  Nature  ne'er  flutter  to  roam 
Afield  from  their  mother's  exiguous  home, 
But  rest  with  a  sober  demeanour  in  peace. 

Man  is  ever  prone  to  strife  : 
Undiscerning,  straight  he  goes, 
Rushing  forcibly  through  life. 
Never  halting  for  repose  ; 
262 


\ 


WOMAN'S  WORTH. 

Hurls  his  own  creations  down, 
Knows  no  term  to  his  desires  ; 
Like  the  Hydra  of  renown, 
From  a  fall  new  strength  acquires. 

But  woman,  content  with  a  narrower  power, 
Plucks  singly  each  dainty  developing  flower. 
And  lovingly  cherishes  it  in  her  breast  ; 
Less  trammelled  than  man  in  her  limited  sphere, 
And  richer  than  he  in  her  smaller  career, 
More  deeply  by  poetry's  whispers  impressed. 

Hard  and  proud  and  self-contained, 
Never  has  man's  forward  heart 
To  that  perfect  bliss  attained 
Which  affection  can  impart. 
For  a  kindred  soul  to  feel 
Is  not  his,  he  can  not  weep. 
And  life's  battle  does  but  steel 
Harder  yet  his  purpose  deep. 

As  the  murmuring  touch  of  the  Zephyr  inspires 
With  life  the  soft-breathing  ^olian  wires, 
So  woman's  vibrating  and  sensitive  soul. 
In  sympathy  with  the  presentment  of  grief, 
Heaves  deep  in  her  bosom,  and  conjures  relief 
From  the  heavenly  pearls  down  her  lashes  which  roll. 

Man  in  his  imperious  mood 
Subjects  rectitude  to  might, 
Scythian  proves  his  case  in  blood, 
Persian  worsted  is  in  fight. 
Passions  uncontrolled  and  rude 
In  the  din  of  battle  gloat ; 
Eris's  raucous  screams  obtrude 
Where  the  Graces  used  to  float. 
263 


WOMAN'S  WORTH. 

But  anon  with  a  gentle  and  eloquent  mien 
Sweet  woman  appears  like  a  law-giving*  queen, 
And  quenches  the  strife  that  still  sulkily  glows ; 
Arch  enemies,  thanks  to  her  delicate  grace, 
Their  anger  forget  in  a  loving  embrace, 
And  ever  united  are  obstinate  foes. 


264 


HOPE. 


Men  often  speak  and  dream  in  hope 

Of  happier  days  in  store  ; 

And  toward  th'  ideal  goal  they  grope, 

And  dream  and  hope  the  more. 

The  world  grows  old  and  young  again, 

And  man  goes  hoping  on  in  vain. 

Hope  is  a  witness  at  his  birth, 
It  flutters  round  his  early  bloom. 
Its  magic  clothes  his  youth  with  mirth, 
Nor  quits  the  greybeard  in  his  tomb. 
Life's  troubles  o'er,  we  still  enthrone 
Hope  over  his  memorial  stone. 

It  is  no  vain  deludmg  thought 
Which  from  disordered  fancy  springs. 
By  hope  our  hearts  are  plainly  taught 
That  we  are  born  for  better  things. 
That  inward  voice    if  we  believe. 
The  hoping  soul  will  not  deceive. 


265 


THE  GERMAN  MUSE. 

'Twas  in  no  Augfustan  age, 
'Neath  no  royal  patronage, 
That  the  German  art  was  born» 
Not  on  glory  was  it  fed, 
Nor  its  flower  raised  its  head 
Princely  triumphs  to  adorn. 

Frederick  on  his  mighty  throne, 
Germany's  most  noble  son. 
Left  it  lone  and  unrevered. 
Germans  justly  may  proclaim 
Theirs  the  credit,  theirs  the  fame, 
German  glory  to  have  reared. 

Thus  it  is  that  German  song 
Rolls  in  boiling  waves  along, 
Bursting  from  the  inmost  heart ; 
Surges  to  triumphant  heights, 
And  in  native  grandeur  slights 
The  despotic  rules  of  art. 


266 


THE  SOWER. 

Full  of  hope,  to  the  earth  the  golden  seed  is  entrusted, 
And  thou  lookest  in  Spring  for  an  unmeasured  return. 

But  in  the  furrows  of  time   such  deeds  art  careful  to 
scatter 
As,  in  wisdom  sown,  may  to  eternity  rise  ? 


THE  MERCHANT. 

Whither  is  bound  yon  ship  ?  A  Sidonian  company  mans 
her, 
And  she  hails  from  the  North,  loaded  with  amber  and 
tin. 
Dandle  her  softly,  winds  ;  and  be  thou  merciful,  Nep- 
tune, 
In  some  sheltering  cove  find  her  a  potable  rill. 
Dedicated  to  you,  ye  Gods,  is  surely  the  merchant. 
Wealth  he  seeks  ;  but  shares  with  the  good  vessel  his 
gain. 

ULYSSES. 

Traversing  every  sea  on  his  homeward  journey,  Ulysses 

Past  Charybdis  steered  only  on  Scylla  to  fall. 
Subject  to  perils  of  earth  and  the  horrible  tumults  of 
ocean. 
Lay  his  wandering  course,  guided  him  even  to  hell, 
Till   in  the  end   he   was  borne  asleep   to  his  Ithacan 
island ; 
Yet  his  awakening  eyes  failed  to   acknowledge  his 
home ! 


267    ^ 


CARTHAGE. 

Oh,  degenerate  child  of  a  noble  and  glorious  mother, 
Who    to   the    vigour   of   Rome   added   the    Tyrian's 
craft  ! 
Romans    sternly    ruled   the  worlds    they  had  taken  in 
action, 
While  the  Tyrian  taught  worlds  he  had  cunningly 
won. 
"What  thine  historical  fame  ?  Thou  conquerest,  true,  like 
a  Roman, 
Sword  in  hand  ;  but  thy  rule  savours  of  Tyrian  gold. 


THE  KNIGHTS  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

Nobly  invested  are  ye,  the  cross  on  your  panoply  wear- 
ing, 
Lionlike  as  ye  stand,  fighting  for  Acre  and  Rhodes, 
As  the  trembling  palmer  ye  guide  in  the  Syrian  desert. 
And  with  a  cherubim's  sword  on  to  the  Sepulchre 
press. 
Yet   still   fairer   thy   garb    when   clad   in  the  merciful 
apron 
Which  (ye  lions  of  fight,  sons  of  a  conquering  race) 
Ye  endue  at  the  bed  of  the  sick  and  suffering  needy. 

And  with  a  menial  hand  render  him  Christian  aid. 
Faith  of  the  holy  Cross,  in  a  merciful  chaplet  united 
Round   thee,   like  twin    palms,    might   and  humility 
blend. 


268 


GERMAN  HONOUR. 


Germany's    sceptre    to   wield   claimed   both    Bavarian 
Louis 
And  the  Hapsburg  Fritz,  equally  summoned  to  reign. 
But  the  fortune  of  war  delivered  the  Austrian  over, 

Still  in  the  ardour  of  youth,  into  the  hand  of  the  foe. 
Ransom  ? — the  throne  he  renounced,  and  swore  to  aban- 
don his  party, 
And  to  wield  his  sword  on  the  victorious  side. 
Under  coercion    he    swore  :  but   free,   he  repented  his 
error, 
And  of  his  own  free  will  back  to  his  prison  he  came. 
Full  of  emotion,  the  foe  embraced  him,  and  ever  there- 
after 
As  two  friends  they  shared  beaker  and  trencher  alike. 
Sharing  a  common  couch  the  princes  in  harmony  slum- 
bered, 
While  an  inveterate  hate  sundered  their  peoples  apart. 
Now  'gainst  Frederick's  host  must  Louis  amain  ;  and  a 
warder 
Over  Bavaria  leaves  whom — but  his  actual  foe  ? 
*'  Ay,   and  the  story  is  true  !  It  is  true,  for  I  have  it  in 
writing  "  : — 
When  he  was  told  the  tale,  so  did  the  Pontifex  cry. 


269 


COLUMBUS. 


On,  thou  mariner  bold  !  though  wags  look  on  in  derision, 
Though  the  sailor   o'ercome    drop   from   the    tiller  his 

hand, 
On,  ever  on  to  the  West !  for  the  land  is  undoubtedly 

westward, 
As  thy  reason  avers  and  a  presentiment  tells. 
Trust  in  the  guiding  of  God  and  the  murmuring  paths 

of  the  ocean. 
Were  it  till  now  unborn,  ocean  would  come  to  thine  aid. 
Genius  hand  in  hand  with  Nature  is  ever  united, 

Genius  animates  hope,  Nature  the  promise  performs. 


270 


POMPEII  AND  HERCULANEUM. 

\        What  new  marvel  is  this  ?    We  prayed  for  drinkable 
waters, 
^        What  strange  fruit  is  this,   dear  Mother  Earth,   of 
^  thy  womb  ? 

Is   there    life  in  the    pit?  Is  there  dwelling  under  the 
lava 
Some     generation     unknown  ?    does     the    departed 
return  ? 
K     Come,  ye  Romans  and  Greeks  !  Behold  your  ancient 
Pompeii 
Rises,  and  here  stands  Hercules'  city  anew. 
?^     Gable  on  gable  ascends,  the  generous  portal  is  open. 

Hither     approach    with     speed,    hasten     to     people 
its  halls  ! 
Lo !  the  theatre  invites  ;    let    the    populace,    earnestly 
pressing 
Through  its  seven-fold  doors,  jostle    their  emulous 
way. 
And     do     ye.     Mimes,    come    forth  ;    complete    thine 
oblation,  Atrides, 
While  to  Orestes'  ear  sadly  the  chorus  appeals. 
Whither  conducts    yon    arch  ?    Dost   thou   distinguish 
the  Forum  ? 
Look  at  the  curule  chair  :  whose  are  the  figures  I  see  ? 
^    Lictors,    bear   your    fasces   on    high  !   In  front  of  the 
Praetor 
At  the  judgment  seat  witness  and  plaintiff  appear. 
271 


POMPEII  AND  HERCULANEUM. 

Orderly    streets    their    breadth    display  ;    with    loftier 
pavement 
Branch  the  narrow  lanes  winding  the  houses  among. 
Far  the  sheltering  eaves  project,  the  dainty  apartments 
Round  the  sequestered  court  nestle  in  cosy  array, 
pen    the    shutters    wide    and    the    doors    with    long- 
stiffened  hinges  ! 
ere   black  night  has  prevailed    enter  the  glamour 
of  day  ! 
See,  how  round   by  the   wall   the   rows  of  benches  are 
ordered. 
And  as  with  precious  stones  sparkles  the  floor  in  relief. 
Merrily  glow  the  walls  with  fresh  and  brilliant  colours  ; 
Where    is    the    artist,    whose     brush     toiled     but    a 
moment  ago  ? 
with    swelling    fruit    and    chosen    blossoms,    the 
garlands 


Compass  a  charming  view  set  in  a  flowery  frame, 
ere  with  his  baskets   filled  a  Cupid    is    gliding,    and 

yonder 
Red-stained  toilers  stand  busily  treading  the  wine. 
High  the   Bacchante  leaps  in  her  dance,  or  in  slumber 
reposes. 
While  the  lurking  faun  peeps  with  insatiate  eye. 
Hither    in    whimsical    course    the    galloping    Centaur 
she  urges  ; 
Hovering  on  one  knee,  gaily  the  thyrsus  applies. 
Lads,  why  tarry  ye  ?   Here  !  the  well-fashioned  vessels 
await  you  ; 
Hither,  ye  maidens,  and  draw  from  the  Etrurian  jar  ! 
Is  not  the  tripod  at  hand    upborne    by    the    wings  of 
the  sphinxes  ? 
Stir    the    fire  !    and    haste,   minister,  slaves,  to    the 
hearth  ! 

272 


POMPEII  AND  HERCULANEUM. 

Purchase  !  and    here  are  coins  by  the   powerful    Titus 
imprinted  : 
Even  the  scale  lies  here,  never  a  weight  is  astray. 


Place    the    burning    lights    in    the    dainty  and  elegant 
sockets, 
Let  the  lamp  be  charged  full  of  diaphanous  oil  ! 
What  does  this  box  contain  ?  Ah  !  see  what  the  bride- 
groom has  ordered. 
Maiden,  circlets  of  gold  ;  jewels  thy  dress  to  adorn  ! 
Lead   the    bride    to    the    odorous  bath,  the    ointments 
are  handy, 
In  this  crystal  vase  traces  of  rouge  I  espy. 
— But,  say,  where  are  the  men  ?  In  the  sterner  domain 
of  the  study 
Xie  in  a  priceless  heap  numbers  of  curious  scrolls. 
Here    are    tablets    of     wax    and    styles — all     writing 
utensils  : — 
Never  a  thing  is  lost,  faithfully  guarded  in  earth. 
All  the  Penates  are  here,  each  God  puts  in  an  appear- 
ance ; 
How  is  it  all  are  found  saving  the  Priesthood  alone  ? 
Merrily    waving    his    wand,    behold    the    light-footed 
Hermes, 
And  from  his  steady  hand  victory  surely  proceeds. 
Ready    and    waiting   stand  the  altars  :  oh  !  come  and 
ignite  them  ; 
Long  has  waited  the  God  :  offer  th'  oblation  at  last. 


273 


THE  ILIAD. 

Pluck  from  the  garland  of  Homer,  and  number  the  tale 
of  the  Fathers, 
Who  have  contributed  all,  parts  of  the  epic  sublime ! 
But    one    mother    above    it    acknowledges,    and    her 
appearance 
Her  personality  tells — Nature,  her  features  are  thine  ! 


ZEUS  TO  HERACLES. 

Not  my  nectar  it  was  to  thee  which  Godhead  accorded  ; 
Thy  God-granted  might  pounced  on  the  nectar  amain. 


THE  ANTIQUE  TO  THE  NORTHERN 
WANDERER. 

Rivers  have  been  no  bar,  thou  hast  faced  the  terrors  of 
ocean, 
And  in  the  loftiest  alps  dizzying  arches  hast  dared 
Me  in  my  home  to  see,  and  yield  me  intimate  honour, 
Such  as   the   voice   of  the   world   yields  in  inspired 
acclaim. 
Now  in  my  presence  thou  art,  my  sanctified  essence  is 
o'er  thee. 
Yet    are    we   nearer   akin  ?     Which    can    appreciate 
which  ? 


274 


THE  MINSTRELS  OF  OLD  TIME. 

Where  is  that  glorious  host,  of  strong  and  melodious 
minstrels 
Whose  inspiring  strains  ravished  the  senses  of  men — 
Who  could  conjure  the  Gods  to  earth,  waft  mortals  to 
heaven, 
And  exalted  the  soul  to  a  poetical  flight  ? 
Singers  indeed  there  are  ;  'tis  heroic  achievements  are 
wanting, 
And  a  receptive  ear,  lyrical  passion  to  rouse. 
Happy  ye  minstrels  of  old,   when  the  voices  of  each 
generation 
Passed  your  stories  down  to  generations  unknown. 
Welcoming  him  as  a  God,  the  world  devoutly  accepted 

What  his  genius  bore,  what  he  created  and  taught. 
By  the  romance  of  his  song  was  kindled  the  listener's 
ardour, 
And  the  emotion  aroused  fed  the  poetical  fire — 
Fed  it,   and   also   purged  !    Ah,    fortunate   he,    that   a 
people 
With  universal  acclaim  joyfully  echoed  his  lay. 
And  that  here  in  the  world  existed  a  spirit  to  aid  him, 
Such  as  a  bard  of  to-day  scarce  can  awake  in  his 
heart. 


275  T2 


THE  ANTIQUE  AT  PARIS. 

The  Frank  indeed  by  force  of  arms 
Can  hale  the  Grecian  artist's  charms 
To  ornament  the  banks  of  Seine  ; 
In  a  museum's  ordered  row 
Can  his  victorious  trophies  show 
His  countrymen  to  entertain  ! 

Statues  so  placed  will  never  bend, 
Nor  from  their  pedestals  descend 
To  brighten  life's  unlovely  tone. 
He  only  comprehends  the  muse 
Whose  native  feeling  she  imbues — 
To  vandals  she  remains  but  stone. 


276 


THEKLA. 

A  SPIRIT  VOICE. 

Where  am  I  now,  and  whither  am  I  bound  ? 
Dost  thou  not  mark  my  spirit  float  above  ? 
Concluded,  surely,  is  my  earthly  round. 
Have  I  not  lived,  have  I  not  tasted  love  ? 

Dost  thou  anent  the  nightingale  inquire. 
Who  in  the  raptured  evenings  of  Spring 
Did  with  his  melody  thy  soul  inspire  ? — 
Only  while  amorous  he  chose  to  sing. 

And  have  I,  then,  the  lost  one  found  again  ? 
Believe  me,  I  am  bound  to  him  for  aye. 
Where  none  can  rend  the  self-appointed  chain, 
Where  the  salt  fount  of  tears  is  ever  dry. 

There  mayst  thou  find  us,  if  thy  love,  indeed, 
With  love  like  ours  can  anywise  compare  ; 
There  is  my  father  from  transgression  freed, 
And  the  red  hand  of  murder  must  forbear. 

He  feels  that  no  misleading  vision  cheats, 
As  his  glance  ranges  upward  to  the  sky  ; 
To  each  is  measured  even  as  he  metes, 
And  who  has  faith  approaches  the  most  High. 

There  plighted  word  is  held  in  high  esteem 
And  sentiment  with  confidence  is  fraught ; 
Fear  not  to  wander,  be  content  to  dream, 
For  childlike  play  may  hide  a  lofty  thought. 


277 


THE  MAID  OF  ORLEANS. 

To  mock  thy  fair  presentment  of  mankind, 
Contemptuous  scoffers  laid  thee  in  the  dust  ; 
To  beauty  wit  is  ever  ill  inclined, 
And  in  no  God  nor  angel  puts  its  trust  ; 
The  dearest  treasures  of  the  heart  it  steals, 
Makes  war  on  fancy,  and  belief  congeals. 

But,  like  thyself  of  humble  parentage, 

Like  thee,  a  pious  shepherdess — no  more — 

Poetry  can  thy  grievances  assuage. 

And  bid  thee  to  celestial  regions  soar. 

Her  halo  doth  thy  temples  glorify. 

Born  of  the  heart  itself,  thou  canst  not  die. 

The  world  is  prone  to  blacken  what  is  bright 
And  all  ideal  virtue  to  demean  ; 
Yet  tremble  not,  for  lofty  hearts  delight 
Still  in  the  warmth  of  the  celestial  sheen. 
Let  Momus  entertain  the  common  throng, 
To  nobler  minds  more  noble  themes  belong. 


278 


NENIA. 


Beauty  itself  must  die  !     Though  it  subjugate  men  and 

immortals, 

Yet  it  can  never  appeal  unto  the  Stygian  God. 

Love  but  once  in  his  life  could  move  the  ruler  of  Hades, 

Who  on  the  threshold  then  sternly  regretted  his  vow. 

Not  Aphrodite  herself  could  heal  the  wounds  of  Adonis, 

Torn  in  his  delicate  skin  by  the  redoubtable  boar. 
Nor  was  the   hero  saved  at  Troy  by   his  mother  im- 
mortal 
When  at  the  gate  he  died,  falling  as  destiny  bade. 
But  from  the  deep  she  rose  with  all  the  daughters  of 
Nereus, 
Wailing  long  and  loud  for  her  illustrious  son. 
Gods  and  Goddesses  all  lament  in  unanimous  anguish 

That  the  beautiful  dies,  fades  the  ideal  away. 
Even  a  dirge  of  lament  we  prize  from  the  lips  of  our 
dear  ones, 
For   the   dishonoured   and    mean   creep   into    Orcus 
unsung. 


279 


THE  CHILD  AT  PLAY. 

Play  in  thy  mother's  lap  !     In  that  holy  inviolate  island, 

Child,  no  cares  exist,  nor  does  anxiety  frown. 
Dandled  above  the  abyss  in  the  loving  embrace  of  a 
mother. 
Smiling  thou  mayst  glance  down  on  the  tumult  of 
earth. 
Play,  thenj  innocent  child  !     Arcadia  still  is  around  thee, 

Nature  uncontrolled  loves  an  hilarious  mood. 
For  the  voluptuous  art  fictitious  borders  arranges, 
Willing  as  is  thy  soul,  lacking  are  duty  and  aim. 
Play  !     For  anon  will  come    the   days  of   compulsory 
labour, 
And  from  a  task  imposed  pleasure  and  humour  recoil. 


280 


THE  SEXES. 


Lo  !  in  the  tender  child  twt,  charming  flowers  united  ! 

In  one  common  bud  maiden  and  youth  are  concealed. 
Gently  the  bond  is  relaxed,  diverge  the  different  instincts, 
And  from  the  blushes  of  grace  passionate  energy  parts. 
Grudge  not  the  boy  his  sport,  let  him  revel  in  boisterous 
ardour  ; 
Natural  vigour  appeased,  grace  and  refinement  appear. 
Bursting  its  swollen  bud,  the  twofold  flower  emerges. 
But   the   blooms  demand  more  than  thy  passionate 
heart.  t 

Swells  the  maidenly  form  in  soft  exuberant  outline. 
And  her  pride  safeguards,   stern  as  the  girdle,  her 
charms. 
Shy  as  the  tremulous  roe  that  the  horn  alarms  in  the 
forest, 
Man  she  hates  and  shuns,  all  unacquainted  with  love. 
Stubbornly  glares  the  youth  from   under  his  lowering 
eyebrows, 
And  for  the  fray  prepared,  stretches  his  every  nerve. 
Into  the  thick  of  the  fight  and  into  the  dusty  arena 

Blithely  he  pushes  his  way  honour  and  glory  to  win. 
Nature,  defend  thy  work  !  what  should  be  for  ever  united 

Surely  will  break  apart  but  for  thy  fostering  hand. 
Mighty  one,  thou  art  there  already  ;  from   angry  con- 
fusion 
Thou  hast  been  able  to  call  forth  an  harmonious  peace. 
281 


THE  SEXES. 

Hushed  is  the  sound  of  the  chase,  the  day's  perpetual 
murmurs 
Die  away,  and  the  stars  gently  drop  into  the  sphere. 
Whispering  sigh  the  reeds,  the  brooks  flow  murmuring 
onward, 
And  Philomela's  song  fills  the  harmonious  grove. 
What  provokes  this  sigh  from  the  heaving  breast  of  the 
maiden  ? 
Stripling,  whence  are  the  tears  silently  dimming  thine 
eye  ? 
Vainly   an  object  she  seeks  for  her  soft  confiding  em- 
braces. 
And  the  rich  ripe  fruit  bows  to  the   earth   with  its 
weight. 
Striving  ever,  the  youth  is  consumed  in  the  flame  he  has 
kindled. 
Nor  is  the  wasting  glow  cooled  by  a  tempering  air. 
Lo  !  in  the  end  they   meet :  'tis  love  that  has  brought 
them  together. 
And  to  the  wings  of  the  God  pinioned  victory  cleaves. 
Love  divine,  it  is  thou  who  joinest  humanity's  blossoms. 
Parted  though  they  be,  and  dost  unite  them  for  aye  ! 


282 


THE  INFLUENCE  OF  WOMAN 


Mighty  thou  art  in  the  strength  of  thy  calm  unruffled 
enchantments  ; 

For  tranquillity's  spell  bustle  can  never  achieve. 
Force  I  expect  in  man,  defending  the  canons  of  order ; 

But  let  woman  alone  through  her  amenity  rule. 
Many  indeed  have  ruled  by  dint  of  ideas  and  action, 

But  they  had  not  thee,  noblest  adornment  of  all. 
No  true  queen  there  is  but  woman's  womanly  beauty, 

By  mere  presence  it  rules,  dominant  where  it  appears. 


283 


THE  DANCE. 


See,  how  the  couple  revolve  in  undulatory  motion 

Gliding,  the  winged  foot  scarcely  oppresses  the  earth. 
Are  these  phantoms  of  air  that  I  see,  released  from  the 
body  ? 
Or  are  they  moonlight  elves  winding  in  merry  array? 
Light  as  the  smoke  which  wreathes  through  space  at 
the  touch  of  the  Zephyr, 
Light  as  the  dancing  skiff  borne  on  the  silvery  tide. 
Capers   the   disciplined   foot   to   the    tune's    melodious 
measure  ; 
And  the  murmuring  strings  buoy  up  the  body  in  air. 
Now,  as  though  they  would  burst  by  force  through  the 
ranks  of  the  dancers, 
Right  in  the  thick  of  the   crowd  whirls  an  hilarious 
pair. 
Rapidly   opens    a   path    in    front,    and    closes    behind 
them  ; 
Opened  and  shut  is  the  way  as  by  a  magical  hand. 
Lo  !  they  have  vanished  from  sight  :  involved  in  utter 
confusion 
Crumbles  the  edifice  fair  built  of  this  versatile  world. 
Stay,  it  rises  again,  its  intricate  fetters  escaping  ; 

'Tis  the  established  rule,  only  with  varying  charm. 
Oft  destroyed,  so  oft  new  life  creation  engenders, 
And  to  a  silent  law  each  metamorphosis  owns. 
284 


THE  DANCE. 

Say,    how    is   It   that,    ever  replaced,    the    figures   are 
reeling", 
Yet  there  exists  repose  in  the  light  flexible  form  ? 
How   that    each  one  is  free,    his    own    heart's  counsel 
obeying, 
The  true  path  to  find,  spite  of  his  hurrying  course  ? 
Wouldst    thou    know    the    reason  ?       'Tis   euphony's 
might  that  imposes 
Form  on  the  sociable  dance,  curbs  the  too-boisterous 
bound  ; 
Which,  like  Nemesis,  calms  with  the  golden  bridle  of 
measure 
Over-exuberant  mirth,  and  the  intractable  tames. 
Do    they    appeal     in    vain,     the    sphere's    harmonious 
numbers  ? 
Art  thou  not   carried  away,   rapt,   in  the  rhythmical 
stream  ? 
Rapt,    in    the    cadence    sublime    which    all    creation    is 
beating  ? 
Rapt,  in  the  eddying  dance,  which  through  the  ocean 
of  space 
Launches  glittering  suns  in  bold  meandering  courses  ? 
Measure,  all  honoured  in   sport,  thou  dost  in  action 
abjure. 


285 


FORTUNE. 


Happy  the  man  whom  the  Gods  have  graciously  held 
in  affection 
Yet  unborn,    whose  youth  Venus  has  nursed  in  her 
arms. 
Phoebus  has  shaped  his  eyes,  his  lips  are  chiselled  by 
Hermes, 
And  the  signet  of  might  Zeus  has  impressed  on  his 
brow  ! 
What  an  illustrious  fate,  what  a  godlike  future  awaits 
him. 
Ere   the    strife    has    begun   gaily    his    temples    are 
crowned. 
Ere  he  has  lived,  to  him  the  measure  of  life  is  awarded, 
Ere  he  has  met  with  pain   Charis  has  flown  to  his 
aid. 
Surely  the  man  is  great  who,  by  his  original  instinct 
And  by  Virtue's  aid,  singly  encounters  the  Fates. 
Fortune  alone  he  fails  to  compel ;  what  Charis  denies 
him. 
Jealously  holding  her  hand,  valour  can  never  attain. 
From  whatever  is  base  an   earnest  will   can   preserve 

thee, 
^^_A11  that  is  worthy  the  Gods  freely  and  amply  bestow. 
As  thou  art  loved  by  thy  love,  so  shower  the  bounties 
of  Heaven  ; 
Equally  Cupid  and  Jove  give  partiality  rein. 
286 


FORTUNE. 

Favourites  have  the  Gods  :  they  love  the  natural  ringlets 
Crowning-    youth,    for    the    gay   happiness    bring    in 
their  wake. 
Not  unto  those  who  can  see  do  the  Gods  vouchsafe 
their  appearance  ; 
Their  magnificent  pomp  realize  only  the  blind. 
Gladly   they  light  for   choice   on   the  mind  of  innocent 
childhood, 
And  to  the  modest  void  heavenly  notions  impart. 
Unexpected  they"  come  and   cheat  proud   anticipations, 
heir  spontaneous  course  no  jurisdiction  compels, 
traight  to  the  man  of  his  choice  the  Father  of  men 

and  Immortals 
Sends  his  eagle  down,  summoning  him  to  the  skiesi— ~ 
Guided    alone  by  his  will,    from    amidst  the  many  he 
chooses. 
And  on  the  brow  he  prefers   twines  with  affectionate 
hand 
Now  the  laurel  wreath,  and  anon  the  fillet  of  power, 

But  the  Deity  ci'onms  only  established  success. 
On  the  fortunate  waits  Phoebus,  the  Pythian  hero, 

And  the  compeller  of  hearts,  jovial  smiling  Amor. 
Even  the  sea  for  him  Poseidon  levels,  and  easy 

Glides  the  keel  which  bears  Caesar  and  all  his  success. 
Low  at  his  feet  the  lion  lies  down,  and  the  arroganF 
dolphin 
Rising  out  of  the  sea,  piously  offers  his  back. 
Blame    not   the   fortunate    man    that    the    Gods    have 
aided  his  triumph, 
And  that  her  pet  from  the  fight  Venus  has  hurried  away. 
Him,    whom    the    Goddess  preserves,   the  favoured  of 
Heaven,  I  envy. 
Not  the  man  she  ignores,  wrapt  in  the  blindness  of 
night. 

287 


FORTUNE. 

Was  the  renown    of    Achilles   a  whit    less    great    that 
Hephaestus 
Forged  his  ponderous    shield,   ternpered  his  terrible 
blade 
— That   the    concerns    of   man    should    occupy  mighty 
Olympus  ? 
Rather  his  fame  is  enhanced  that   he    was    worthy 
such  love, 
That  it  respected  his  wrath   and,  willing  to  add  to  his 
glory, 
Plunged   in    the    fathomless   pit   all    the    selected  of 
"^'  Greece. 

Blame  not  beauty   because   she  is  beautiful,  and   with- 
out effort, 
Thanks  to  Venus' gifts,  fair  as  the  lily-cup  shines! 
GränT'fhat    Fortune    is    hers,   still    fortunate   thou   in 
beholding  ! 
Is  she  so  easily  fair?  still  thou  enjoyest  her  charms. 
Happy  thou  that  the  gift  of  song   has   descended   from 
Heaven, 
And  for  thee  the  Bard  sings  what  he  learns  from  the 
muse  ! 
Quickened  himself  by  the  God,  a  God  he  becomes  to 
his  hearers. 
Thanks  to  his  Fortune  it  is  thou  canst  felicity  share. 
Guarding  the  busy  exchange,  let  Themis  attend  with 
her  balance. 
And  mete  out  the  reward  strictly  according  to  toil  ; 
None  but  a  God  can  summon  delight  to  the  face  of  a 

mortal, 
.     Where  no  miracle  works  Fortune  to  none  can  accrue. 
All  that  is  human  must  first  be   born,  grow  fuller,  and 
ripen, 
And  the  improver.  Time,  cherishes  every  stage ; 
288 


FORTUNE. 

But  nor  Fortune  nor  Grace  canst  thou   mark  as  they 
come  into  being  ; 
All  complete  they  are,  born  of  Eternity's  womb. 
Every  Venus  of  earth,  like  the  Venus  of  heaven,  arises, 

A  mysterious  birth,  out  of  the  depths  of  the  sea. 
Just  as  Minerva  of  old  came  forth  equipped  in  her  aegis, 
Springs  from  the  Thunderer's  head  every  luminous 
thought. 


289  u 


GENIUS. 

**Do    I,"  thou    askest,  **  believe  what  the  masters  of 
learning  have  taught  me  ? 
What    their    disciples'    band    boldly    and    promptly 
affirm  ? 
Can  erudition  alone  to  true  satisfaction  upraise  me, 

And  does  System  alone  justice  and  fortune  uphold  ? 
Shall  I  the  impulse  distrust,  or  neglect  the  whispering 
precepts 
Which    thy  very  self,   Nature,   has    stamped    in    my 
heart. 
Till  on  the  wearisome  theme    the    schools   their    seal 
have  imprinted, 
And  the  volatile  mind  Formula's  fetters  have  bound  ? 
Tell   me — for   thou    didst    once    in    these    profundities 
flounder, 
And  from  the  mouldering  grave  compassed  a  happy 
return — 
Knowest  thou  what  is  stored  in  the  vaults  of  ambigfuous 
language, 
Whether  the  hopes    of   the    world    hold    where   the 
mummies  abide  ? 
Must  I  travel  this  dismal  path  ? — I  shudder — and  own 
it!  — 
Travel  I  will  if  it  lead  really  to  justice  and  truth." — 
Friend,   hast  heard    of  the  Golden  Age?     The    poets 
have  left  us 
Many  a  tale  thereanent,  simply  and  touchingly  told. 
290 


GENIUS. 

Happy  days  !  ere  yet  from  life  the  holy  had  vanished  ; 
When  was  held  in  esteem  maidenly  gentle  reserve  ; 
When  the  omnipotent    law,   which    rules  the  celestial 
courses, 
Lying   concealed  in  the  germ,    quickened  the  atom 
to  life  ; 
When  necessity's  law,  in  calm  unvarying  silence. 

E'en  in  the  hearts  of  men  roused  a  more  liberal  wave  ; 
When  the  unerring  mind,  exact  as  the  hand  on  the  dial, 

Pointed  above  to  truth,  only  to  what  could  endure. 
Then  no  scoffer  arose,  no  special  priesthood  existed, 
What  was  brimming  with  life  nobody  sought  in  the 
tomb. 
Patent  to   every   heart   stood  forth    the  unchangeable 
precept, 
But  the  source  was  concealed  whence  it  so  happily 
flowed. 
Ah  !  those  joyous   days    are    gone  !    And  an  obstinate 
blindness, 
Founded    on    absolute     will,    Nature's     repose     has 
destroyed. 
In    the    polluted    sense    no    longer    the    voice  of   the 
Godhead 
Sounds  ;  in  the  blunted  heart  silent  the  oracle  grows. 
Only  in  innermost  self  the  straining  spirit  may  hear  it, 
Where  the  sense  is  preserved  safe  by  the  mystical 
word. 
Here  with  purest  heart  the  inquirer  gravely  adjures  it, 

And  the  instinct  of  old  gives  him  his  wisdom  again. 
If  it  was  never  thy  fate  to  lose  thy  guardian  angel, 
Nor    with    indifferent    ear    warnings    of    conscience 
to  heed, 
If  in  thine  unblanched  gaze  immaculate  truth  is  depicted, 
And  her  voice  still  rings  clear  in  thine  innocent  breast, 
291  u  2 


GENIUS. 

If  thy  placid  mind  to  mutinous  doubt  is  a  strang'er, 

If  thou  canst  now  predict  doubt  will  be  silent  for  aye, 
If  thy  tumultuous  thoughts  ne'er  stand  in   need  of  an 
umpire, 
Nor  sound  sense  be  dulled  by  an  insidious  heart — 
Fortunate  man,  then  go  thy    way    in    thine    innocent 
virtue  ! 
Science  has   nothing   for    thee :    rather   her   teacher 
be  thou  ! 
Yonder  brazen  law,  which  rigidly  governs  the  masses. 
Is    not    thine. — Thy    law   is    what   thou    likest    and 
dost. 
And    as    a    word    of    command     goes    forth     to     all 
generations, 
What    from    thy    hand    proceeds,     falls    from     thy 
sanctified  lips. 
Will  with  amazing  force  affect  the  excited  emotions  : 
Only  thou  failst  to  perceive,  throned  in  thy  bosom, 
the  God, 
And    the     powerful    seal    which    humbles    all    spirits 
before  thee, 
But  through  the  vanquished  world  calmly  pursuest 
thy  way. 


292 


THE  PHILOSOPHICAL  EGOTIST. 

Hast  thou  observed    the   babe   who,    ignorant   of  the 
affection 
Which   his   cradle   surrounds,    sleeps    through    each 
changing  embrace, 
Till    in    a    natural    burst   the   passions    of  youth   are 
awakened. 
And  the  first  conscious  flash    suddenly    shows    him 
the  world  ? 
Hast  thou  the  mother  observed,  who  purchases  sleep  for 
her  darling 
At  the  cost  of  her  own,  tenderly  guarding  his  dreams, 
With  her  own  very  life  supporting  his  feeble  existence, 

And  in  her  deep  concern  finds  a  sufficient  reward  ? 
And  dost  thou  speak  ill   of  Nature  which,  Mother  and 
infant. 
Gives,  receives,  and  exists,  but  as  necessity  bids  ? 
Wouldst     thou,    self-contained,    withdraw     from     the 
heavenly  circle. 
Which  in  affectionate  bonds  creature  with  creature 
connects  ? 
Willst    thou     pose    alone,    and     alone    of    deliberate 
purpose. 
When  by  exchange  of  force  even  Eternity  stands  ? 


293 


THE  WORDS  OF  FAITH. 


Three  words  of  significant  import  I  name, 

And  lips  to  each  other  impart ; 

From  no  indiscriminate  sources  they  came, 

But  their  origin  have  in  the  heart. 

And  unless  these  words  form  part  of  his  creed, 

Man  is  a  pitiful  creature  indeed. 

Man  was  created,  and  man  \s,freei 

No  matter  if  born  in  chains  : 

Let  the  cry  of  the  rabble  pass  over  thee. 

And  the  howl  of  extravagant  swains  ! 

Of  no  free  man  stand  thou  in  fear, 

Nor  of  slave  who  has  conquered  a  free  career. 

And  Virtue  is  more  than  an  echoing  call, 

For  it  serves  man  day  by  day, 

And  though  he  may  blunder  and  stumble  and  fall. 

He  can  aim  at  the  virtuous  way, 

And  what  from  the  wiseacre  oft  is  concealed 

Is  as  oft  to  the  soul  of  the  simple  revealed. 

And  a  God  there  is,  whose  w^ill  compels 
The  wavering  mind  of  men, 
And  thought  of  the  loftiest  order  swells 
Beyond  time's  wildest  ken. 
Though  the  world  in  eternal  vicissitude  roll, 
There  is  ever  repose  for  the  peaceable  soul. 
294 


THE  WORDS  OF  FAITH. 

Preserve  these  three  great  words  that  I  name^ 

One  lip  to  another  impart, 

Though  not  from  extraneous  sources  they  came. 

But  their  origin  have  in  the  heart. 

So  long  as  these  words  form  part  of  his  creed,, 

Man  is  a  creature  of  worth  indeed. 


295 


THE  WORDS  OF  ERROR. 

Three  words  of  significant  meaning  there  are 

In  the  mouths  of  the  wisest  and  best, 

Yet  vainly  they  echo,  like  tones  from  afar, 

And  yield  no  assistance  or  rest. 

Man  forfeits  the  fruits  he  could  lightly  attain 

If  after  impalpable  shadows  he  strain. 

So  long  as  he  pictures  a  glorious  age, 

Rejoicing  in  honour  and  right — 

Those  gifts  will  assuredly  combat  engage 

With  a  foe  who  for  ever  will  fight. 

Thou  must  at  him  in  air,  for  a  contact  with  earth 

Supplies  to  his  force  a  regenerate  birth. 

So  long  as  he  thmks  that  success  will  attend 

On  nobility's  conduct  and  aims — 

He  will  find  that  she  looks  upon  wrong  as  a  friend, 

That  the  world  what  is  worthy  disclaims. 

A  wanderer  he,  and  his  duty  to  roam 

To  discover  elsewhere  an  immutable  home. 

So  long  as  he  dreams  that  the  reason  of  man 
Can  with  absolute  verities  close — 
He  will  find  an  abyss  which  no  mortal  can  span  ; 
We  can  but  assume  and  suppose. 
In  a  word,  it  is  true,  thou  canst  prison  the  mind. 
But  it  surges  away  on  the  wings  of  the  wind. 
296 


THE  WORDS  OF  ERROR. 

Then  hasten  thy  soul  from  illusions  to  wean, 

And  a  higher  religion  endue  ! 

What  the  ear  never  heard,  and  the  eye  has  not  seen 

Remains  what  is  lovely  and  true  ! 

It  is  not  abroad,  as  the  foolish  contends, 

'Tis  within,  and  upon  thine  own  ardour  depends. 


297 


PROVERBS  OF  CONFUCIUS. 


TIME. 

Time  in  threefold  measure  strides  : 
Mark  the  Future's  halting-  guise, 
Arrow-like  the  Present  flies, 
Still  for  aye  the  Past  abides. 

No  impatience  pricks  his  speed 
Would  he  tarry  on  his  way. 
No  alarms  his  march  impede, 
Nor  do  doubts  his  footsteps  stay. 
When  he  pauses,  no  remorse 
Moves  him  to  resume  his  course. 

Wouldst  thou  lead  a  happy  life  ? 
Wisely  end  thy  term  of  strife, 
Call  the  "  laggard  "  to  thy  side — 
Not  as  tool,  but  as  thy  guide. 
*'  Arrow-swift  "  avoid  as  friend, 
'Ware  th'  "Abiding"  to  offend. 

II. 

SPACE. 

Threefold  is  the  grip  of  space  : 
Down  the  long  unchequered  face 
Stretches  Length  ;  from  side  to  side 
Two  extremes  do  Breadth  divide  ; 
Depth  can  dark  abysses  trace. 
298 


PROVERBS  OF  CONFUCIUS. 

Th'  allegory  thou  canst  guess  : — 
Ever  onward  must  thou  press, 
Wearied  thou  must  never  be 
Wouldst  thou  consummation  see  ; 
Wouldst  thou  know  the  world  we  tread 
Wide  abroad  thy  thoughts  must  spread  ; 
He  who  to  the  deep  descends 
Knows  alone  what  life  portends. 
Perseverance  in  the  fight, 
Joined  with  knowledge,  brings  to  light 
Truth  obscured  and  out  of  sight. 


299 


LIGHT  AND  WARMTH. 


The  worthy  man  with  trust  receives 
What  in  the  world  he  finds  ; 
And,  self  ignoring,  he  believes 
In  hope  for  noble  minds  ; 
And  dedicates,  with  ardour  warm, 
In  Truth's  defence,  his  trusty  arm. 

But  all  too  soon,  alas,  he  learns 

How  puny  life  has  grown  ; 

And  in  the  struggle  only  yearns 

To  guard  and  keep  his  own. 

His  heart,  with  cold  indifferent  pride 

Even  from  love  now  turns  aside. 

Ah  !  Even  Truth's  celestial  rays 

Can  lose  their  wonted  fire. 

Woe  be  to  them  whose  conscience  pays 

For  knowledge  they  acquire. 

'Tis  well  th'  enthusiast's  warmth  to  snare 

With  worldly-wise  yet  prudent  care  ! 


300 


BREADTH  AND  DEPTH. 


Many  there  are  in  the  world  who  know, 

And  a  little  on  everything"  say  : — 

Is  this  attractive  ?  should  that  be  so  ? — 

They  answer  you,  yea  or  nay. 

On  hearing-  them  talk,  you  might  think  aside 

That  theirs,  for  sure,  was  the  coveted  bride. 

But  anon  from  the  world  they  disappear ; 

Their  life  was  an  empty  shell. 

He  who  strives  after  a  great  career, 

Burns  to  do  something  well, 

The  best  of  his  powers  with  all  their  weight 

On  the  smallest  details  must  concentrate. 

The  tree  may  grow  till  it  weathers  the  gale, 

The  branches  may  shelter  the  field. 

The  leaves  may  voluptuous  odours  exhale, 

But  the  fruit  they  can  none  of  them  yield  : 

The  seed  alone  in  its  tiny  space 

Contains  the  trees  which  the  forest  grace. 


301 


THE  GUIDES  OF  LIFE  : 

OR, 

THE  BEAUTIFUL  AND  THE  SUBLIME. 

Two  mysterious  powers  in  life's  excursion  attend  thee. 

Happy  it  is  for  thee  if  they  unite  in  thine  aid. 
One    with     enlivening     art     beguiles    the    wearisome 
journey  : — 
Light,  as  thou  hängst  on  his  arm,  duty  and  destiny 
seem. 
Merrily  he  conducts  till,  high  on  the  pinnacle  standing, 

Down  he  bids  thee  peer  over  Eternity's  sea. 
Here  with  a  resolute  mien  and  grim  the  other  awaits 
thee, 
Bears  thee  over  the  deep  with  an  imperious  arm. 
Never    alone   in    one    confide  !    To   the   former   thine 
honour 
Thou  must  never  entrust,  nor  to  the  latter  thine  aims. 


302 


ARCHIMEDES  AND  THE  SCHOLAR. 

Once    on    a    time    an    inquisitive    youth    approached 
Archimedes  : — 
''Teach    me,    I    pray,"     he   cried,     ''teach    me   the 
heavenly  art, 
Which  in  thy  competent  hand  to  the  State  such  profit 
has  yielded, 
And  has  guarded  our  walls  'gainst  the  beleaguering 
host." 
"  'Heavenly'  namest  thou  Art?   'Divine'  she  is,   of  a 
surety," 
Quoth  the  sage,   "  and  was,  ere  she  protected    our 
arms. 
Just  her  fruit  to  attain  the  merest  mortal  is  able  ; 

But,    an   a   Goddess    ye   woo,    seek   not    a   woman 
alone  !  " 


HUMAN  KNOWLEDGE. 

Just  because  thou   readest  in   Nature  what  thou  hast 
written. 
Just  because  thine  eye  all  her  phenomena  marks, 
Reckoning    on    the    bonds    which    man    upon    Nature 
imposes, 
Does  thy  mind  presume  infinite  Nature  to  know  ? 
So    the    Astronomer's    art   lays    out    the    chart    of  the 
heavens 
Better  his  way  to  steer  through  inaccessible  space  ; 
Suns  in  a  focus  he  brings  though  by  infinity  parted, 
Mates  the  distant  swan  with  the  redoubtable  bull. 
But  can  he  comprehend  the  spheres'  mysterious  orbit 
Merely  because  on  a  globe  planets  in  order  appear  ? 

303 


THE  TWO  PATHS  OF  VIRTUE. 

Twofold  is  the  road  by  which  a  man  is  exalted  ; 

If  in  the  one  he  fail,  open  the  other  appears. 
This  to  patience  appeals,  and  that  to  vigorous  action, 

Happy  the  man  whose  fate  grants  him  a  portion  of 
each. 


HONOURS. 

How  do  the  flashes  of  light  on  the  mirrorlike  rivulet 
sparkle  ! 
Seems  the  golden  marge  with  its  own  ardour  aglow. 
But    the    ripples    are    carried     adown    the    glittering 
highway 
Forcing     each    other    along,     feather,    and     hasten 
away  : — 
Such    is    the    fugitive    spark    which    man    denominates 
honour ; 
Not  he  shines,  but  the  scene,  where  he  may  happeri 
to  be. 


ZENITH  AND  NADIR. 

Roam   as  thou  willst  through   space,    thy  zenith    and 
nadir  unite  thee 
Both  to  the  heaven  above,  and  to  the  axis  of  earth. 
Whatsoever    thou  dost,   let   heaven  be  fraught    of   thy 
purpose, 
And  let  Earth  itself  witness  afford  to  thy  d^^^d.  ! 


304 


IDEAL  FREEDOM. 


When  life  comes  to  an  end,  two  roads  before  thee  are 
open  ; 

To  th'  ideal  this,  that  to  eternity  leads. 
While  time  still  permits,  be  sure  thou  choose  the  ideal, 

Lest  to  death  thou  drift  under  the  finger  of  fate. 


THE  CHILD  IN  THE  CRADLE. 


Fortunate  babe,   for  thee  there  is  infinite  space  in   a 
cradle. 
But  to  accommodate  man  even  the  universe  fails. 


THE  UNCHANGEABLE. 


Time    irrevocably   flies,    towards    changeless    eternity 
wending. 
Thou  canst  fetter  time  if  thou  art  honest  and  true. 


305 


THEOPHANIA. 

In  prosperity's  days  the  Gods  are  lightly  accounted, 
But  they  stand  hard  by  when  on  affliction  I  gaze. 


THE  HIGHEST. 

What  is  the  highest  of  all  ? — The  plant  can  give  thee  a 
lesson. 
What  it  unwittingly  is,  that  of  volition  be  thou. 


IMMORTALITY. 

And  thou  fearest  to  die  !    Wouldst  live  for  ever   and 
ever  ? 
Live  in  the  Whole  !   It  abides  when  thou  art  hurried 
away. 


306 


VOTIVE  TABLETS, 


What  the  Deity  taught,  which  all  my  life  has  assisted, 
Here  I  gratefully  hang  in  his  immaculate  fane. 


SUNDRY  VOCATIONS. 

Many    there    are    who    toil,   each   one   to   prosper  his 
species  ; 

But  it  is  given  to  few  only  to  multiply  man. 
Many  a  seed  is  sown,  but  few  bear  fruit  at  the  harvest. 

For  the  majority  still  close  in  their  elements  hide. 
But  let  one  expand — 'twill  nurture  a  bountiful  outcome, 

Filling  a  living  world  with  the  creations  of  aye. 


INSPIRATION. 

In  the  organic,  sensitive  world  no  novelty  rises, 

Save  where  flowers   bloom — highest  achievement  of 
earth. 

TWO  METHODS. 

Do  what   is   good,  and  man   thou  teachest   all  that  is 
holy  ; 
Picture  the  fair,  and  so  sprinkle  the  heavenly  seed. 
307  X  2 


VOTIVE  TABLETS. 


DIFFERENT  STANDPOINTS. 

Fashion  has  degrees  in  the  world  :  contemptible  natures 
Reckon  on   what  they   do  ;  noble  assert  what  they 
are. 


WORTH  AND   WORTHINESS, 

If  thou  anything-  hast,  why,  let  me  purchase  an  item ; 
If  thou  anything  art,  let  us  effect  an  exchange. 


MORAL  FORCE. 

Lacking  a  sense  of  the   fine,  ye  can   always  cultivate 
reason  ; 
What  to  the  man  is  a  blank,  imagination  achieves. 

SHARES. 

Even  an  impious  hand  can  Truth's  omnipotence  order  : 
But  the  measure  to  fill  Beauty  availeth  alone. 

TO  X. 

Give  me  a  share  of  thy  knowledge,  and,  friend,   I  will 
eagerly  take  it. 
But  an  thou  offer  thyself,  pray  my  excuses  accept.. 

TO  X.  X. 

Thou  wouldst  teach  me  truth  ? — Nay,  spare  the  trouble  ! 
the  object 
Not  through  thee  do  I  seek  ;  by  it  will  estimate  thee. 
308 


VOTIVE  TABLETS. 


TO  X.  X.  X 


Thee  would  I  have  for  a  mentor  and  friend.     Thy  livings 
ideal 
Teaches  me,  and  thy  words  sink  to  the  depth  of  my 
heart. 


THE  PRESENT  GENERATION. 

Say,  was  it  always  thus  ? — Generations  are  hard  to  dis- 
tinguish. 
This  generation  is  young  ;  that  which  arises  is  old. 


TO  THE  MUSE. 

What  I   had  been  in  thine  absence   I  know   not,   and 
earnestly  sorrow 
As  the  crowds  I  mark,  who  never  owned  thee  at  all. 


THE  LEARNED   WORKMAN. 

Never  a  taste  has  he  of  the  fruit  which  springs  from  his 
labour : 
Appetite  only  enjoys  what  erudition  has  sown. 


THE  DUTY  OE  ALL. 

Strive,  an  thou  mayst,  for  the  whole  ;  and  if  thou  fail  to 
attain  it. 
To  some  whole  belong  as  a  subservient  part. 
309 


VOTIVE  TABLETS. 


A   PROBLEM. 

None  to  another  be  like,  yet  each  resemble  the  Highest ! 
How  can  that  be  achieved  ?     Each  be  consummate 
himself. 

THE  PROPER  IDEAL, 

All  may  share  thy  thoughts  :  thine  own  is  only  thy  feel- 
ing. 
Wouldest   thou    own  him,  feel,  do  not  imagine^   thy 
God. 

TO  THE  MYSTICS. 

Mystery  ever  is  that  which  lies  broad  open  to  all  men  ; 
Circles  you  round  and  round,  yet  not  a  body  observes. 


THE  KEY. 

Wouldst  thou  know  thyself  then  mark  the  methods  of 
others. 
Others  to   understand,   search  thine  own  innermost 
heart. 

THE   CRITIC. 

Strict  as  my  conscience  itself,   thou  notlcest  all  mine 
offences  : 
Therefore  I  love  thee  as  well  as — mine  own  conscience, 
at  least. 

310 


VOTIVE  TABLETS. 


WISDOM  AND  PRUDENCE. 

Wouldst  thou  attain,  my  friend,  to  the  highest  circles 
of  wisdom  ? 

Venture  on  every  risk  ;  prudence  can  whisper  aside  : 
The  short-sighted  observe  the  receding  river  bank  only, 

Never  the  one  that  will  lie  presently  under  thy  feet. 

AGREEMENT. 

Truth  we  both  of  us  seek  ;  thou  in  life's  strenuous 
action, 

I  in  the  heart,  and  so  each  his  desire  attains. 
From  without  the  eye,  if  healthy,  regards  the  Creator, 

And  beholds  within,  as  in  a  mirror,  the  heart. 


POLITICAL  DOCTRINE. 

Aim    at   achieving  the   good,    my    friend,    but,   having 
achieved  it. 

Be  content ;  and  abstain,  prithee,  from  doing  it  all. 
True  zeal  only  requires  that  what  there  is  is  ideal. 

Spurious  zeal  demands  that  an  ideal  be  there. 


MAJESTAS  POPULI 

Majesty  ot  mankind  !     In  the  haunts  of  man  shall  I  seek 
thee? 

Thou  hast  been  hitherto  with  a  minority  found. 
Only  a  few  there  are  who  count,  the  others  are  ciphers  ; 

And  what  prizes  exist  in  the  commotion  are  lost. 


VOTIVE  TABLETS. 


TO  A  REFORMER. 

''  I  have  given  my  all,"  thou  sayst,  ''for  human  advanr 
tage  ; 
But  in  vain,  for  I  earned  enmity  only  and  hate." — 
Shall  I  explain,  my  friend,  what  my  relation  to  man  is  ? 
Trust  the  proverb,  which  yet  never  has  led  me  astray. 
As  for  Humanity's  self,  who  can  too  highly  esteem  it? 

Be  it  impressed  in  deeds  as  .to  thy  soul  it  appears. 
If  in  the  struggle  of  life  some  mortal  jostle  against  thee. 

Help  him,  if  thou  mayst,  with  a  benevolent  hand. 
But — for  the  rain  and  dew  and  the  general  good  of  the 
people — 
Leave  it  to  heaven,    my  friend  :  heaven  exists,  as  of 
yore. 


MY  ANTIPATHY. 

Crime  sincerely  I  hate,  and  hate  with  a  special  aversion 
Since  it  brings  in  its  train  wearisome  prattle  of  good. 

*'  Good  thou  mockest  ?  " — Nay,  let  all  continue  its  prac- 
tice. 
But,  for  heaven's  sake,  prate  of  it  never  again. 


TO  THE  ASTRONOMERS. 

Tell  me   no  more,  I   pray,   of  your  suns  and  nebulous 
hazes  ; 
Think  you  Nature  is  vast  only  to  set  you  a  sum  ? 
Nothing  in  infinite  space  is  so  august  as  your  object. 
But  there  is  nought  august,  friend,  in  indefinite  space. 
312 


VOTIVE  TABLETS. 


ASTRONOMICAL  LORE. 

Measureless  an  it  extend — the  noble  arena  of  heaven, 
Heaven  is  dragged  by  fools  down  to  the  level  of  earth. 


THE  BEST  STATE. 

**  How  shall  I  know  which  State  is  best  ?  " — Why,  just 
as  thou  knowest 
Which    of    women    is    best.     Neither    an    utterance 

needs.  ^^ 

MY  FAITH. 

What   religion    I    own  ?    thou    askest : — None   of    thy 
naming. 
Why  ?  thou  askest  again  ; — Why,  for  religion  itself. 


WITHIN  AND   WITHOUT. 

*'  God   alone  sees    into  the  heart."     'Tis  an  adequate 
reason 
Why  we   too   should   see   something  of  wholesome 
repute. 

FRIEND  AND  FOE. 

Dearly  I  honour  a  friend,  but  an  enemy  too  has  his 
uses  ; 
Friends  point  out  what  I   can,  enemies  show  what  I 


ought. 


Z^Z 


VOTIVE  TABLETS. 


LIGHT  AND  COLOUR. 


Make  thy  lasting  abode  where  fixed  Eternity  dwelleth  J 
Come,  ye  varying  hues,  come  and  illuminate  man  ! 


TRUE  INDIVIDUALITY. 

Single  it  is  thy  lot  to  be — not  part  of  a  total — 

Reason  plants  thee  alone,  and  acquiesces  the  heart. 

Thou   and    thy    heart    are    one,   thy    reason    is    only    a 
fragment. 
Fortunate  thou  if  for  aye  reason  abide  in  thine  heart. 


VARIETY. 

Plenty  are  good  and  wise,  but  they  only  count  as  a 
sample, 
For  o'er  them  not  heart,  but  an  idea  has  sway. 
And  the  idea  is  sad,  from  a  thousand   varying  emblems 

Nothing  bringing  to  light  but  a  necessitous  one. 
But    life    rollicks    along    content    in    the    presence    of 
beauty, 
Knows  in  a  thousand  forms  to  metamorphose  that 

ONE. 


THE  THREE  AGES  OF  NATURE. 

Fable  endowed  her  life,  by  later  learning  arrested ; 
But  to  an  active  life  reason  attracts  her  anew. 

314 


VOTIVE  TABLETS. 


GENIUS. 


Sense  can  adapt  indeed  what  has  already  existence  ; 

That  which  Nature  has  built  can  in  a  copy  create. 
But  to  reason  in  space  is  Nature  amenable  only. 

Genius  only  can  Nature  in  Nature  abet. 


THE  IMITATOR. 

Good  from  good  to  extract — that  lies  in  the   power   of 
all  men  ; 

Good  to  derive  from  ill  Genius  only  achieves. 
Only  on  what  is  achieved  'tis  worth  to  found  imitations  ; 

What  is  original  pleads  only  to  natures  inspired. 


GENIALITY. 

How  does  Genius    stamp  its  presence?    Why,   as  the 
Creator 
With  His  presence  adorns  Nature  and  infinite  space. 
Clear  is  the  ether  above,   and   yet  'tis    a    measureless 
ocean. 
Eye  may  see  it  indeed,  but  the  intelligence  fails. 


THE  INQUIRERS. 

All  without  and  within  mankind  would  eagerly  fathom  ; 

Truth,  canst  thou  escape  from  this  insatiable  lust  ? 
Nets    they    spread   and    snares   in   hopes   thy   feet   to 
entangle  ; 

But  thy  spectral  tread  every  effort  eludes. 

315 


VOTIVE  TABLETS. 


AN  AWKWARD  COUPLE. 

Why  are  taste  and  genius  only  so  rarely  united  ? 
Taste  is  afraid  of  strength,  genius  hates  to  be  held. 


CORRECTNESS. 

Free  from  blame  to  appear  is  at  once  the  meanest  and 
highest  ; 
It  is  achieved  by  the  great  and  by  the  feeble  alone. 

THE  LA  W  OF  NATURE. 

So  it  has  always  been,  my  friend,  and  will  be  for  ever  : 
Feebleness  works  by  rule  ;  vigour  achieves  a  result. 

CHOICE. 

If  thy  work  and  deeds  are  not  attractive  to  all  men, 
Try  to  attract  the  few  : — folly  to  humour  a  crowd. 

THE  SCIENCE  OF  MUSIC. 

Art    may    imitate    life,   and   a    bard    may   quicken  our 
instincts  ; 
But  the  appeal  of  a  soul  only  Polymnia  knows. 

SPEECH. 

Why  is  a  spirit  alive  to  kindred  spirits  a  stranger  ? 
Only  arouse  the  soul,  and  it  is  silent  for  aye. 
316 


VOTIVE  TABLETS. 


TO  THE  POET 


Language  serves  for  thee  as  body  does  to  adorers. 
Snatches  asunder  at  will,  or  in  one  being  unites. 


THE  MASTER. 

Mostly   a   master's    fame  depends    on    that   which   he 
utters  ; 
But  the  judiciously  dumb — he  is  the  master  of  Art. 


THE  GIRDLE. 

Under    a    girdle    her    grace     Aphrodite     in     mystery 
harbours  ; 
Modesty  veiled  it  is  which  her  attraction  adorns. 


THE  DILETTANTE. 

Just   on   the   strength   of  a   verse   achieved,    with    an 
adequate  accent, 
Which    thy    judgment    approves — art    thou    a    poet 
indeed  ? 


THE  TATTLER  OF  ART 

All  that   in   Art   is   best,    thou    askest  ?    But    were   it 
fitting  ? 
Art  thou  worthy  the  good,  antagonistic  in  aim  ? 
317 


VOTIVE  TABLETS. 

THE  PHILOSOPHIES. 

Which  will  abide  amid  all  the  philosophies  ?  Marry,  I 
know  not ; 
But  Philosophy's  self — may  it  eternally  live. 

THE  FAVOUR  OF  THE  MUSES. 

With  the  ignoble  expires  his  fleeting  glory — thy  chosen, 
Heavenly   Muse,  thou   bearst    safe    to   Mnemosyne's 
arms. 

HOMERS  HEAD  AS  A  SEAL. 

Good  old  Homer,  to  thee  I  entrust  my  delicate  secret ; 
For  the  romance  of  Love  touches  a  poet  alone. 


318 


THE  BEST  FORM  OF  GOVERNMENT. 

That  I  reckon  as  best  which  renders  it  easy   to  all  men 
Good  to  think,  and  yet  forces  a  moral  on  none. 


TO  LEGISLATORS. 

Ye  may  ever  assume  that  man,  as  a  corporate  body. 
Means  well,  but  take  heed  never  to  reckon  on  one. 


THE  WORTHY. 

Pay  respect  to  the  whole  :  individuals  only  I  honour : 
But  each  one  I  regard  only  as  part  of  a  whole. 


A  FALSE  IMPULSE  TO  STUDY. 

Ah  !     How  many  a  foe  has  Truth  !     My  soul  is  in  an- 
guish 
As  the  owls  I  observe  forcing  a  way  to  the  light. 


REJUVENESCENCE. 

Nay,    'tis     not    a    romance — in     streams    adolescence 
aboundeth. 
Where  ?  thou  askest : — Apply  to  the  poetical  art. 

THE  CIRCLE  OF  NATURE. 

In  thy  happy  domain  is  all  comprised,  and  a  greybeard 
Harks  in  childlike  age  back  to  the  days  of  his  youth. 


319 


0 


THE   GENIUS  WITH   THE  INVERTED 
TORCH. 

Fair  he  is  to  behold  with  torch  no  longer  illumined  ; 
But,  my  good  friends,  Death  is  no  apostle  of  art. 

THE  VIRTUE  OF  WOMAN. 

Virtues  a  man  must  have  through  life's  wild  medley  to 
bear  him  ; 

So  with  a  fortune  assured  into  the  battle  he  goes. 
But  for  a  woman  enough  is  a  single  virtue,  appealing 

Lovingly  to  the  heart,  and,  let  us  hope,  to  the  eye  ! 

BEAUTY  AT  ITS  BEST. 

Hast  thou  never  beheld  the  fair  in  a  moment  of  anguish  ? 
Then  never  hast  thou  observed  absolute  beauty  at  all. 
Hast    thou    marked    how    pleasure   illumines    adorable 
features  ? 
No  ? — Then  pleasure  to   thee  still  is  a  pleasure  un- 
known. 


THE  FORUM  OF  WOMAN. 

Woman,  do  not  judge  man's  each  individual  action 
Harshly  ;  but,  an  ye  will,  criticize  man  as  a  whole. 


FEMININE  JUDGMENT. 

Man  relies  on  facts,  but  love  is  the  test  of  a  woman  ; 
If  she  do  not  love,  sentence  is  entered  at  once. 


520 


THE  FEMININE  IDEAL. 

TO  AMANDA. 

Woman    in    all    things    yields    to    man,    except    in  the 
highest  ; 
There  the  strongest  man  is  of  a  woman  the  slave. 
And  what  is  the  highest  ?     A  radiant  halo  of  glory, 
Such  as,    Amanda,   compels    from   thine   immaculate 
brow. 
When  the  mist  floats   over  the  orb,  his    splendour  ob- 
scuring. 
Fairer  appears   the  scene   drawn  in   the   shimmering 
air. 
Is    man    free?     Thou    art!     Thine    indispensable  free- 
dom 
No  hesitation  knows,  never  necessity  heeds. 
What  thou  givest  is   ever  a  whole ;    complete  thou  art 
always, 
And  thy  gentlest  chord  is  thine  harmonious  whole. 
Here  is  eternal  youth  in  never  exhausted  abundance. 
And  thou  pluckest  at  once  flower  and  harvest  alike. 


HOPE  AND  FULFILMENT. 

Confident  in  his  ship,  the  youth  goes  down  to  the  ocean  : 
Grey  he  returns,  and  wrecked,  into  the  harbour  again. 


THE  COMMON  LOT. 

How  do  we  quarrel  and  hate,  divided  in  hope  and  inten- 
tion ; 
Yet  thy  locks,  like  mine,  steadily  grizzle  the  while. 

321  V 


HUMAN  PERFORMANCE. 

At  the  beginning  appears  the  road  to  eternity  open, 
But  the  sUghtest  bend  even  the  wisest  appals. 


THE  FATHER. 

Strive  as  best  thou  may,  a  lonely  position  awaits  thee. 
Till  perforce  thou  become  part  of  the  natural  whole. 


LOVE  AND  DESIRE. 

True  !     Man  loves  what  he  has,   and  hopes  for  all  that 
he  has  not ; 
None  but  rich  minds  love,  only  the  indigent  ask. 


GOODNESS  AND  GREATNESS. 

Two    prime   virtues   exist,   and  would   they    were   ever 
united — 
Worth,  where  is  anything  great,  greatness  a  party  to 
worth  ! 


MOTIVES. 

Fear,  'tis  true,  may  drive  the  slave  with  a  disciplined 
iron  ; 
But  let  me  be  led  under  a  gentle  control ! 


122 


NATURAL  AND  TRANSCENDENTAL 
PHILOSOPHERS. 

What,  already  at  war  !     Too  soon  ye  aimed  at  alliance  ; 
As  your  paths  divide  will  ye  acknowledge  the  truth. 


GERMAN  GENIUS. 

German,  copy  the  heroes  of  Rome,  and  Grecian  artists 
Both  thou  hast  achieved,  never  the  verve  of  the  Gaul. 


323  Y2 


TRIFLES. 


THE  EPIC  HEXAMETER. 

Bounding  along  in  a  rush  on  its  undulatory  billows, 
Man  it  carries  away,  skimming  o'er  ocean  and  air. 


THE  DISTICH. 

In    the     Hexameter     hark,    the     mellifluous     accents 
ascending, 
In  Pentameter  hush  with  a  melodious  air. 


THE  EIGHT-LINED  STANZA. 

Stanza,    thou    wert    by    love    in    its    yearning    fancy 
created — 
Thrice  thou  fliest  away,  thrice  to  be  with  us  again. 


THE  OBELISK. 

On  an  exalted  base,  upheaved  by  the  hand  of  a  master, 
Here  I  stand,  as  he  bade,  proud  in  inanimate  might. 

324 


TRIFLES. 


THE  TRIUMPHAL  ARCH. 

*'  Fear  ye  not,"  the  master  exclaimed,  '*  my  bow  in  the 
heavens  ; 
Like  it,  so  shalt  thou  into  eternity  reach.'* 


THE  BEAUTIFUL  BRIDGE, 

Under  me  are  the  waves,  the  wagons  thunder  above 
me  ; 
Kindly  the  master  allows  me  to  pass  over  as  well. 


THE  GATE 

Throw  the  portals  ajar  to  attract  untutored  allegiance  \ 
Let  the  citizen  out,  free  and  untrammelled  as  air  ! 


THE  CHURCH  OF  SAINT  PETER. 

If  thou  seekest  immensity  here  to  find,  'tis  an  error ; 
Mine  immensity  serves  but  to  ennoble  thyself. 


325 


GERMANY  AND  HER  PRINCES. 

Many    a    monarch    has    earned    thy    faithful    worthy 
allegiance, 
Only  the   subject's    will    strengthens   the    governor's 
arm. 
Germany,  if  thou  canst,  for  thy  rulers  render  it  harder 
Great  as  Kings  to  appear,  easy  to  posture  as  men. 


TO  PROSELYTIZERS. 

^'Give  me  a  scrap  of  soil  outside  the  bounds  of  the 
planet," 

Said  the  godlike  man,  *'  so  can  I  lever  the  earth." 
But  for  an  instant  take  mine  own  identity  from  me, 

And  in  the  flash  of  an  eye  I  will  appropriate  yours. 


THE  CONNECTING  LINK 

How  does  Nature  proceed  the  high  and  lowly  to  mingle 
Here  upon  earth  ?  She  lets  vanity  balance  between. 


THE  MOMENT. 

With  the  Century  comes  a  great  and  critical  epoch ; 
But  that  epoch  finds  no  generation  of  worth. 
326 


GERMAN  COMEDY. 

Fools  and  caricatures  we  have  indeed  by  the  dozen  ; 
But  unluckily  these  comedy  do  not  abet. 

A  BOOKSELLER'S  ADVERTISEMENT. 

Nothing  imports  a  man  so  much  as  to  have  a  vocation  ; 
For    twelve    groschen    in    cash,    friend,    you     may 
purchase  one  here. 

DANGEROUS  CONSEQUENCES. 

Friends,  take  heed  before  your  deeper  feehngs  avowing  ; 
Once  committed,  you'll  have  every  one  on  to  your  back. 

THE  GREEK  SPIRIT. 

Scarce  has  the  agued  chill  of  Gallomania  left  us, 

Than  in  a  feverish  heat  blind  Grecomania  comes. 
What   did    Greekism    mean  ?    Intelligence,    easy    Pro- 
portion ! 
Then,  good  sirs,  I  beg,  let  Grecomania  lie  ! 
Worthy  the  cause  ye   espouse ;  but  pray  pursue  it  in 
reason, 
Lest  to  derision  it  lead,  and  to  derision  alone. 

CHILDREN  OF  THE  SABBATH. 

Years  the  master  strives,  his  object  seldom  achieving ; 

To  a  receptive  race  all  were  explained  in  a  dream. 
What  they  yesterday  learned  to-day  they  would  urge 
upon  others  ; 

Ah,  these  gentlemen  have  little  compassion  indeed. 


327 


THE  PHILOSOPHERS. 


PUPIL. 

Happy  to  find  you,  sirs,  in  congregation  assembled  ; 
For  the  one  needful  thing  I  would  inquire  of  you. 

ARISTOTLE. 

Come  to  the  point,   my   friend  ;    we   take    the    **  Jena 
Gazette"  here 
Down  in  Hell,  so  we  know  all  that  a  body  may  need. 

PUPIL. 

That  Is  well,  for  I  want — and  you'll  have  no  peace  till  I 
get  it- 
Some  respectable  saw  of  universal  applause. 

FIRST   PHILOSOPHER. 

Cogito,  ergo  sum. — I  think,  so  have  an  existence  ! 
Is  the  premiss  assured,  certainly  true  is  the  rest. 

PUPIL. 

Then  if  I  think,  I  am  ;  but  I  can't  be  eternally  thinking, 
And  I  have  lived  for  long,  guiltless  of  ever  a  thought. 

SECOND    PHILOSOPHER. 

Since  existence  there  is,  there  is  also  a  super-existence. 
In  that  state  we  float,  floundering,  every  one. 

THIRD    PHILOSOPHER. 

I  say  just  the  reverse,     /only  have  an  existence  ; 
Everything  outside  me  is  but  a  bubble  of  air. 
328 


THE  PHILOSOPHERS. 

FOURTH    PHILOSOPHER. 

I  will  admit  two  things  exist — a  world  and  a  spirit  ; 
Nothing  more,  and  these  really  synonymous  are. 

FIFTH    PHILOSOPHER. 

Of  your  existence   I  know — well,  nought — and   nought 
of  your  spirit  ; 
Both  I  vaguely  discern,  but  they  are  phantoms  alone. 

SIXTH    PHILOSOPHER. 

1  am  I,  and  establish  myself,  and  if  I  establish 

That  disestablished  I  am,  there  is  a  negative  proved. 

SEVENTH    PHILOSOPHER. 

Imagination  exists  :  there  is  then  something  imagined  ; 
Throw  the  imaginer  in,  three  is  your  total  in  all. 

PUPIL. 

All  that  ye  say,  good  sirs,  I  value  not  at  a  bawbee  ; 
Give  me    a    telling   phrase — one  with   a  meaning,    I 
pray. 

EIGHTH    PHILOSOPHER. 

Where  mere  theory  rules  no  more  remains  for  inven- 
tion ; 
But  this  saw  holds  good: — "Ever  you  can,  if  you 
ought ! " 

PUPIL. 

Oh  !    I    observe  when    a   man    has    no   more    sensible 
answer. 
Plump  he  makes  a  plunge  into  the  conscience  at  once. 

DAVID   HUME. 

Pay  no  heed  to  the  mob  !    That  Kant  has  addled  its 
reason. 
Rather  apply  to  me,  trustworthy  even  in  hell. 

329 


THE  PHILOSOPHERS. 

A    POINT    OF    LAW. 

Many  a  year  have  I  used  my  nose  for  the   purpose  of 
smelling-  ; 
Now  I  desire  to  know,  have  I,  as  user,  a  right? 

PUFFENDORF. 

Rather    an    awkward    point !     But    you    prove    early 
possession, 
Which  is  much  :  so  I  say,  use  it  again  and  again  ! 

SCRUPLES    OF   CONSCIENCE. 

Ever  I  seek   my  friends  to  oblige,  and,  unluckily,  like 
it; 
For    then    conscience  asks  : — where  does  the  virtue 
come  in  ? 

CONCLUSION. 

Only  one  method   I   see,  do  what  you  can  to  despise 
them  ; 
Then    you    may  sulkily  yield    all    that  a  conscience 
demands. 


330 


G.  G. 

Man,  considered  alone,  is  a  sensible  creature  accounted  ; 
But  regard  him  in  bulk,  and  what  a  blockhead  is  he  ! 


THE  HOMERIDES. 

Which  amid  you  is  the  singer  of  Troy  ? — His  appetite 
knowing, 
Heyne  kindly  sends  'Varsity  sausage  for  him. 
*'  Here  !     It  was   1   who   sang  of  the  warlike  fury  of 
princes — 
Pass  the  sausages  here  : — Ida  I  sang  of  as  well  !  " 
Steady  !     I  say  ! — I  have  not  got  sausage  enough  for 
you  all  here. 
For  the  donor  sent  sausages  only  for  one. 


THE  MORAL  POET. 

Man  is  a  pitiful  wight.     I  know,  and  try  to  forget  it  ; 
And  so  it  was  that  I  came,  curse  o'  my  folly,  to  thee  ! 


A  LOFTY  SUBJECT. 

Loves  thy  Muse  to  proclaim  how  God  showed  pity  to 
mortals. 
But  why  blazon  abroad  that  they  so  pitiful  are  ? 
331 


A  TRICK. 

Wouldst  thou  please  at  a  stroke  the  pious  and  also  the 
earthy  ? 
Paint  a  voluptuous  scene,  throwing"  the  Evil  One  in. 


JEREMIADS. 

German  verse  and  prose  to  the  dogs  are  equally  going-, 

And  the  golden  age  is  but  a  relic  of  yore  ! 
Logic  is  worse  for  the  bards,  philosophers  addle  the 
language, 
And  in  the  walk  of  life  common  intelligence  fails. 
Out  of  her  proper  aesthetic  abode  all  virtue  is  banished 

To  a  political  home,  merely  a  nuisance  to  all. 
Whither,  then,  are  we   bound  ?     They  call  our  natural 
instincts 
Dull  ;  yet  if  we  restrain,  we  are  accounted  absurd. 
Oh,  for  the  simple  address  of  the  serving  wenches  of 
Leipzig, 
Could  we  but  have  those  days,  simple  and  harmless 
again  ! 
Comedy,   furnish  afresh  th'  accustomed  weekly  enjoy- 
ment, 
— Sigismund  in  love,  Marcarill  as  a  buffoon  ! 
Tragedy  full  of  flavour  and  epigrammatic  allusion, 

And  the  staid  minuet  buskined  as  ever  of  old  ! 
Come,  like  a  marionette,  Philosophy,  patiently  pausing 

When  in  self-defence  Nature  objects  to  the  shears  ! 
Come,  thou  ancient  prose,  in  honest  measures  express- 
ing 
Thoughts  of  new  and  old,  which  the  disciple  accepts. 
German  verse  and  prose  to  the  dogs  are  equally  going, 
And  the  golden  age  is  but  a  relic  of  yore  ! 

332 


KNOWLEDGE. 

Knowledge   to  one  appeals  as  a  Goddess  indeed  ;  to 
another 
Knowledge  is  only  a  cow  milkable  every  day. 

KANT  AND  HIS  INTERPRETERS. 

How  one  wealthy  man  can  make  the  indigent  easy  ! 
When  a  sovereign  builds,  carters  have  plenty  to  do. 


333 


SHAKESPEARE'S  GHOST. 

(A  PARODY.) 

In  the  end  I  beheld  great  Hercules'  wondrous  achieve- 
ments, 
And  his  shade. — Himself  was  not,  alas,  to  be  seen. 
Like  birds  screaming  aloft,  I  heard  the  Tragedians'  out- 
cry. 
And      like      yelping      dogs,     bayed      Dramaturgists 
around. 
Terrible  stood  the  monster  there.   His  bow  was  extended. 

And  th'  impatient  bolt  steadily  bore  on  the  heart. 
*'What    adventurous    act   wouldst  thou,   unfortunate, 
hazard. 
That  thou   seekst  the  damned  here  in  a  bottomless 

hell "  ?— 
"  I  am  here  to  ask  the  seer  Tiresias  only 
Where  I  may  hope  to  find  haply  the  buskin  of  old." — 
'*  If  they  Nature  despise  and  the  ancient  Greeks,   'tis  a 
pity 
Vainly   to   drag   to    the    fore    thy    dramaturgy    for 
them." — 
Nature  postures  again  in  our  dramatic  arena. 

Naked  as  she  can  be,  evident  every  rib. 
**  What,  can  you  let  me  see  that  old  and  adorable  bus- 
kin, 
Which  to  attain  I  plunged  into  the  Stygian  night  ?  " — 

334 


SHAKESPEARE'S  GHOST. 

Such  apparitions  are  past,  and  tragedy.     Scarce  in  a 
yard's  length 
Goes    thy    harnessed    soul    grudgingly    on    to    the 
boards. 
'*  Good  !     Philosophy  has  your  finer  feelings  exalted, 

And  a  humorous  sense  drives  irritation  away." — 
Give  me  a  downright  dry  old  jest — 'tis  agreeable  fool- 
ing ; 
Though,  if  humid  enough,  sorrow  is  able   to  please." 
'*  Can  I  note  at  a  glance  Thalia's  exquisite  motions 

And  the  stately  step  taught  by  Melpomene's  art  ?  " — 
"  Neither  !    We  only  regard  the  moral,  Christian  affec- 
tions. 
Simple  and  homelike  truths,  which  popularity  bring." 
What  !     No    Caesar    upon    your    boards,    no    mighty 
Achilles  ? 
Is  Andromache  gone  ?  does  not  Orestes  appear  ?  " — 
*'  No  !     But  there  are  priests  and  shrewd  commercial 
attaches, 
Subalterns  and  scribes,  majors  enough  of  hussars. 
"  But,  I  pray  you,  my  friend,  what  can  such  a  laughable 
medley 
Do    that   is   really   great ;    greatness    how  can  they 
achieve  ?  " — 
"What?     Why,  nurture  cabals,  lend  money  at  usury, 
pocket 
Silver  spoons,  nor  hold  pillory  even  in  awe." 
"  Whence,  then,  dost  thou  procure  this  Fate  of  appalling 
appearance. 
Which  at  a  single  stroke  lifts  and  abases  a  man  ?  " — 
*'  Nonsense  !     What  we  seek  is  self  and  friends  of  ac- 
quaintance. 
All  our  griefs  and  woes — and,  by  the  rood,  they  are 
here." 

335 


SHAKESPEARE'S  GHOST. 

*'But  all  this  ye  possess  at  home  with  greater  advan- 
tage; 
Since   ye   seek   yourselves,     why    do    ye  try  to  es- 
cape ?  "— 
*'  Do  not  take  it  amiss,  but  that  is  a  separate  problem  ; 

Fate — why,  fate  is  blind  ;  poets  are  trusty  for  aye." 
**  So  on  your  own  poor  boards  your  own  poor  nature  is 
acting, 
While   the   good    and   great    never    are    witnessed 
atall?"— 
*'Well,  the  poet  is  host,  and  a  last  act  brings   retribu- 
tion ; 
When  crime  shirks  the  repast,   virtue  can  elbow  a 
place." 


336 


THE  RIVERS. 


THE  RHINE, 

True,  as  a  Switzer  should,  I  guard  Germania's  borders  ; 
But  the  patient  stream  leaps  the  excitable  Gaul. 

THE  RHINE  AND  THE  MOSELIE. 

Long  have  I  clasped  Lorraine  in  my  arms,  like  a  favour- 
ite damsel  ; 
But  as  yet  no  son  has  our  alliance  adorned. 

THE  DANUBE  IN  XX. 

Bright-eyed  men  I  see  of  Phaeacia  dwelling  around  me  ; 
Merrily  whirls  the  spit,  Sunday  is  ever  at  hand. 

THE  MAIN 

True,    my   battlements  age,   but  I   look  with  pleasure 
around  me 
O'er  generations  born  of  an  illustrious  house. 

THE  SAALE. 

Short  though  is  my  course,  many   kings  and  peoples  I 
welcome, 
Sovereigns  who  are  good,  peoples  whose  habits  are 
free. 

337  z 


THE   RIVERS. 


THE  ILM. 


Poor  are  my  banks,  indeed  ;  yet,  as  I  gently  meander, 
Many  a  lasting-  lay  over  my  bosom  is  heard. 

THE  FLEISSE. 

Flat  are  my  banks,  my  stream   is   shoal — too  early  ex- 
hausted 
By  a  voracious  crowd,  poets  and  authors  alike. 

THE  ELBE. 

Gibberish  all  of  you  talk — of  all  Germania's  waters 
I  true  German  speak — truly,  in  Meissen  alone. 

THE  SPREE. 

Ramler  a  language  supplied,   my   Caesar   furnished  a 
subject ; 
Choked  at  first,  since  then  never  I  utter  a  word. 

THE   WESER. 

Never  a  single  word,  not  an  epigrammatic  allusion, 
Now  I  think  it  o'er,  unto  the  Muse  I  supply. 

THE  MINERAL   WATERS  OF  X.  X. 

Country  strange,  whose  streams   possess  a  remarkable 
flavour ; 
But  whose  people  present  nothing  at  all  to  remark. 
338 


THE   RIVERS. 


THE  PEGNITZ. 


Long"  have  I   suffered,    alas,   from   an  hypochondriacal 
ailment ; 
And  if  I  flow  at  all — well,  'tis  my  habit  to  flow. 


THE RIVERS, 

Only  let  us  abide  beneath  the  — anian  aegis  ; 

Master  and  yoke  are  mild,  burdens  are  happily  light. 


THE  SALZ  ACH 

From    the   mountains    I    pour   on    the    archiepiscopate 
unction  ; 
Then  to  Bavaria  turn,  lacking  a  fillip  indeed. 

THE  ANONYMOUS  RIVER. 

Lenten  meats  to  provide  for  the  pious  board  of  a  bishop, 
Placed  in  an  arid  land  by  the  Creator,  I  flow. 

LES  ELEUVES  INDISCRETS. 

Rivers,  hold  your  peace  !     Your  lack  of  modesty  equals 
That  which  exhibited  once  Diderot's  intimate  friend. 


339  Z2 


THE  METAPHYSICIAN. 


"  The  Universe  far,  far  below  me  lies  ! 
I  scarcely  see  the  mannikins  of  earth  ! 
How  does  my  art,  in  its  transcendent  worth 
Noblest  of  all,  exalt  me  to  the  skies  !  " 

So  brags  the  slater  from*  his  lofty  perch, 
So  does  that  little  self-important  man, 
Hans  Metaphysicus,  learned  in  research. 
Tell  me,  thou  little  self-important  man. 
Von  pile,  on  which  so  grandly  thou  dost  glose — 
Whence  came  it — on  what  base  does  it  repose  ? 
How  cam'st  thou  there — and,  for  its  callow  height, 
What  serves  it,  but  to  bring  the  plain  in  sight  ? 


340 


THE  WORLDLY  WISE. 

The  law  by  which  each  mundane  thing 

Its  pristine  bulk  and  shape  attained, 

The  peg  whereon  this  earthly  ring 

By  thoughtful  Zeus  was  made  to  cling, 

For  fear  it  should  perchance  be  strained, — 

A  real  genius  I  proclaim 

The  man  who  can  announce  its  name, 

Unless  I  choose  to  aid  his  ken — 

'Tis  :  Twelve  is  different  from  Ten. 

Snow  makes  us  cold,  a  fire  is  hot. 
Upon  two  feet  a  mortal  goes. 
Across  the  sky  the  sun  doth  trot. 
And,  knowing  logic  ne'er  a  jot. 
All  this  a  man  by  reason  knows. 
But  he  who  Metaphysics  learns 
Knows  that  what  freezes  never  burns, 
That  wet  is  wet,  and  dry  is  dry. 
That  bright  is  bright  can  testify. 

His  noble  epic  Homer  sings. 

The  hero  is  by  peril  cheered. 

The  valiant  man  to  duty  springs — 

And  did  so  long  before  such  things 

As  the  Philosophers  appeared. 

The  heart  and  genius  have  wrought 

What  Locke  and  Descartes  never  thought, 

Such  do  their  instincts  only  move 

The  possibilities  to  prove. 

341 


THE  WORLDLY  WISE. 

In  life  the  strong  is  ever  right, 

The  weak  must  feel  the  mighty's  rage ; 

Who  rules  not  is  a  slavish  wight ; 

Else  things  were  in  a  sorry  plight 

Upon  this  little  earthly  stage. 

Yet  what  would  happen  could  we  scan 

Now  in  its  birth  the  cosmic  plan, 

From  moral  systems  may  be  gained, 

And  everything  at  once  explained. 

''  Man  stands  in  need  of  human  aid 

To  compass  his  appointed  goal  ; 

On  the  large  scale  he  loves  to  trade, 

Of  many  drops  the  sea  is  made, 

Whole  torrents  through  the  mill-wheel  roll. 

So  flies  the  wolf's  ferocious  brood 

And  states  renounce  internal  feud." 

Thus  Puffendorf  and  Feder  teach. 

And  "  ex  cathedra"  love  to  preach. 

Yet  since  the  professorial  saw 
To  some  will  e'er  appeal  in  vain. 
Nature  takes  heed  that  not  a  flaw 
Shall  mar  the  chain,  and  by  her  law 
Bids  ripening  fruit  its  hold  retain. 
Till,  then,  philosophy  succeeds 
The  world  in  ruling  with  its  creeds, 
Its  motive  power  she  supplies 
By  hunger  and  by  lovers'  sighs. 


342 


PEGASUS  IN  HARNESS. 

Once  to  a  fair — was  Haymarket  its  name  ? — 
Where  many  things  to  purchasers  appeal 
Of  many  kinds,  a  hungry  poet  came 
Leading  the  Muses'  steed,  to  have  a  deal. 

Loud  neighed  the  winged  steed 

And  bucked  and  pranced  quite  in  the  proper  style  ; 

Admiring  cries  from  every  lip  proceed  : — 

**The  royal  beast  !   But  pity  to  defile 

His  slender  form  vi^ith  such  a  pair  of  wings  ! 

He  were  a  credit  to  a  tip-top  team  ; 

You  say  that  from  a  noted  breed  he  springs  ? 

But  who  of  driving  in  the  air  would  dream  ?  " 

But  not  a  soul  of  them  would  risk  his  cash, 
Till  spoke  a  farmer  glad  to  cut  a  dash  : — 
''  True  that  with  useless  wings  he  is  equipped, 
But  then  they  can  be  either  bound  or  clipped, 
And  make  his  hauling  not  a  bit  the  worse  : 
Come,  twenty  pounds  I'll  venture  for  the  horse  ! " 
The  dealer,  glad  enough,  responded — ''  Done  !  " 
And  Hans  led  off  the  prize  that  he  had  won. 

The  noble  beast  no  sooner  felt  the  rein 
Than,  fretting  under  the  unwonted  load, 
Away  he  flew  with  all  his  might  and  main. 
And  his  fine  breed  and  eager  mettle  showed 
By  doubling  up  the  cart  upon  the  road 

343 


PEGASUS  IN  HARNESS. 

Close  to  a  ditch. — Thought  Hans,  with  such  a  beast 
No  carts  for  me  !  I  know  a  better  scheme  ; 
To-morrow  I  will  tool  the  stage  at  least, 
And  he  shall  be  a  leader  in  the  team. 
The  lively  crock  will  save  another  pair. 
And  his  exuberance  will  yield  to  wear." 

The  start  was  fair  enough.     The  winged  steed 
Roused  his  companion  to  lightning  speed. 
But,  unaccustomed  common  earth  to  spurn, 
Alas,  his  flashing  glances  heavenward  turn. 
And,  with  the  instinct  of  a  heaven-born  hack, 
He  soon  abjures  the  safe  and  beaten  track. 
O'er  moor  and  bog  and  field  the  trap  he  drags, 
And  with  his  fire  excites  the  other  nags  ; 
Voice  could  not  check  them,  nor  the  ribbons  guide, 
Till,  to  the  terror  of  the  fares  inside. 
The  shattered  vehicle  at  last  stood  still 
Right  on  the  summit  of  a  lofty  hill. 

'*  Well,  this  is  leading  us  a  pretty  dance," 
Quoth  Hans  reflecting,  with  a  rueful  glance  ; 
"  Confound  it  all,  but  this  will  never  do  ; 
Let's  see  if  we  can't  bring  the  madcap  to 
By  harder  work  and  a  more  stinted  fare." 
Th'  experiment  was  quickly  made,  and  ere 
Three  days  had  passed,  only  a  shadow  wan 
Was  the  fine  steed. — "  By  Jove,  I  have  a  plan," 
Cried  Hans, — *'  Alive,  my  lads,  and  yoke  him  now 
Beside  my  stoutest  bullock  in  the  plough  !  " 

No  sooner  said  than  done.  The  winged  horse 
And  bullock  o'er  the  furrows  plod  their  course. 
Th'  indignant  griffin  strives  with  all  his  might 
Again  to  soar  in  his  accustomed  flight. 

344 


PEGASUS  IN  HARNESS. 

'Tis  vain.     The  bullock  tramps  with  solemn  stride, 
And  Phoebus'  steed  must  by  his  pace  abide 
Until  at  length,  by  long  resistance  spent, 
The  force  from  all  his  mighty  members  went, 
And,  mastered  by  vexation  and  disgust, 
The  noble  horse  fell  writhing  in  the  dust. 

"Accursed  beast,"  cried  Hans  in  his  despair, 
Laying  the  whip  about  with  all  his  might. 
"  E'en  for  the  plough  too  bad  thou  art,  I  swear, 
That  horse-dealer,  the  rogue,  has  done  me  quite  !  " 

While  thus  the  whip  in  fury  still  he  plied. 

He  marked  a  smart  young  fellow  at  his  side 

Strolling  along  with  free  and  easy  tread, 

A  cither  in  his  hand  ;  while  on  his  head 

A  golden  fillet  graced  his  auburn  hair. 

'*  Whither  away,  friend,  with  that  precious  pair? 

That  is  a  team  indeed,"  the  stranger  cried, 

''  Bullock  and  bird  in  harness  side  by  side  ! 

Just  for  a  moment  trust  your  horse  to  me, 

Will  you  ? — and  you  shall  see  what  you  shall  see." 

The  monster  was  unharnessed  in  a  crack. 
And  straight  the  laughing  youth  was  on  his  back. 
The  brute,  now  conscious  of  a  mastering  rein, 
Champing,  began  against  the  bit  to  strain  : 
His  former  self  thrown  off,  behold  him  rise 
A  God  inspired,  with  lightnings  in  his  eyes. 
Straight  to  the  storm  he  spreads  his  glorious  wings 
And  snorting  in  his  freedom  heavenward  springs. 
And  ere  the  eye  can  follow  his  ascent. 
He  soars  above  the  azure  firmament. 


345 


THE  PUPPET-SHOW  OF  LIFE. 

What  ?  Wouldst  thou  see  my  puppet-show — 

Life  and  the  world  in  miniature  ? 

That  privilege  you  may  secure, 

But  do  not  stand  too  close,  you  know. 
'Tis  only  by  love's  gentle  light 
Or  Cupid's  torch-flame  seen  aright. 

Yes,  look  !  The  stage  is  never  bare  : 

Behold  the  little  child  in  arms, 

The  bouncing  boy,  the  boisterous  youngster's  charms, 

The  upgrown  fighting  man,  who  all  will  dare. 

Each  has  his  own  success  in  mind. 

But  narrow  is  th'  appointed  way  : 

The  axles  smoke,  the  chariots  sway, 

The  hero  pushes  on,  the  weakling  lags  behind  ; 

Pride  meets  with  an  amusing  fall. 

And  the  judicious  conquers  all. 

And  at  the  goal  behold  fair  woman  stands, 
With  fairy  fingers  and  with  eyes  that  plead, 
Ready  to  give  the  conqueror  his  meed. 


346 


TO    A    YOUNG    FRIEND    ABOUT    TO 
TAKE  UP  PHILOSOPHY. 

Many    a   task   in   his   youth   the    Grecian   had   to   ac- 
complish 
Ere  he  a  coveted  home  could  in  Eleusis  attain. 
Art  thou  ready  thyself  to  approach  that  holy  of  holies, 

Where  her  wondrous  stores  Pallas  Athene  preserves  ? 
Knowest  thou  all  that  awaits  thee  there,  how  dear  is  the 
bargain, 
Which  at  a  cost  defined  purchases  what  is  unknown  ? 
Hast    thou    vigour    enough     that    hardest    battle    to 
venture. 
Where  the  reflecting  mind,  heart  and  the  conscience 
oppose  ? 
Hast   thou    courage    to    face    fell    doubt's   irresistible 
demon. 
And  like  a  man  to  meet  foes  who  do  battle  within  ? 
Hast  thou   an  innocent  heart,   and  an  eye  sufficiently 
healthy 
Trickery  to  detect  garbed  in  the  semblance  of  truth  ? 
Then,  an  thou  be  not  sure  of  the  guide  in  thine  intimate 
bosom, 
Fly  from   the  edge   in  time,    fly  from   the   yawning 
abyss ! 
Many  who   seek   for   light   plunge   headlong   into   the 
darkness  ; 
But  a  child  can  walk  safe  in  the  glimmer  of  eve. 

347 


THE  POETRY  OF  LIFE. 

TO  X.  X.  X. 

**  Who  could  be  satisfied  alone  with  dreams, 
Which  life   illumine  with  but  borrowed  gleams, 
With  mock  procession  leading  hope  astray  ? 
To  me  must  Truth  her  charms  unveiled  display. 
Should  with  my  dream  my  heaven  disappear, 
Should  my  free  spirit,  in  its  bold  career 
Towards  unknown  possibility's  domain, 
Be  hampered  by  the  present's  galling  chain, 
'T  will  learn  at  least  itself  to  bear  a  thrall ; 
And  to  the  sacred  sound  of  duty's  call, 
Or  to  the  more  imperious  call  of  need. 
Will  know  to  render  a  more  willing  heed. 
How  can  a  man  truth's  gentle  rule  forswear. 
And  yet  necessity's  hard  fortunes  bear  ?  " 

Thus,  my  superior  friend,  I  hear  thee  cry 

From  the  safe  niche  which  thine  own  qualms  supply, 

Leaving  mere  semblance  rigidly  alone. 

Struck  by  the  serious  import  of  thy  tone. 
Disperses  in  alarm  th'  immortal  train, 
The  Muse  is  hushed,  the  dancing  hours  refrain, 
The  Goddess  twins,  now  a  dejected  pair. 
Ruefully  twine  the  garlands  in  their  hair, 
Apollo  snaps  in  twain  his  golden  strings, 
Hermes  his  magic  wand  in  fragments  flings, 
348 


THE  POETRY  OF  LIFE. 

From  life's  pale  face  falls  dreamland's  roseate  bloom, 

And  lo,  the  world  unveiled  is  but  a  tomb. 

Fair  Venus'  child  tears  from  before  his  eyes 

Th'  enchanted  veil  ;  his  mother  shrieking,  flies 

Her  godlike  son  a  mortal  to  behold, 

His  ardent  youthful  beauty  sere  and  cold. 

And  even  thy  sweet  lip  and  kiss  grow  chill, 
And  petrifaction  blurs  their  ancient  thrill. 


349 


TO  GOETHE. 

ON  HIS  PRODUCING  ON  THE  STAGE 
VOLTAIRE'S   ''MAHOMET:' 

Can  It  be  thou  thyself,  who  led  us  back 

From  rigid  rule  to  truthful  Nature's  track, 

Thou,  who,  a  child  in  arms,  destroyed  the  worm 

Whose  threatening  coils  our  genius  would  deform,. 

Upon  whose  long-time  consecrated  brow 

The  arts  have  bound  their  fillet,  is  it  thou 

Who  now  on  ruined  altars  dost  restore 

The  bastard  Muse,  whom  we  esteem  no  more  ? 

Domestic  art  is  proper  to  this  scene, 
No  foreign  idols  shall  our  stage  demean  ; 
Laurels  we  proudly  boast — our  very  own — 
On  our  dear  native  German  Pindus  grown. 
The  German  genius  has  dared  to  climb 
To  the  most  sacred  heights  of  art  sublime. 
And,  learning  from  the  Briton  and  the  Greek, 
Would  a  more  glorious  renown  bespeak. 

For  there,  where  slaves  bow  down,  and  despots  rule„ 
Where  bastard  greatness  smacks  of  ridicule, 
There  can  no  art  true  noble  form  portray, 
No  Louis  there  shows  the  artistic  way ; 
Its  life  in  its  own  consciousness  is  found. 
Borrowing  nothing  from  the  world  around* 
With  truth  alone  can  it  be  found  allied, 
And  to  the  free  alone  it  is  a  guide. 

350 


TO  GOETHE. 

Not,  then,  to  reimpose  the  chains  of  old 
Dost  thou  this  scene  of  former  days  unfold. 
Thou  would'st  not  lead  us  back  again  to  gaze 
Upon  our  undiscerning  childish  days — 
It  were  in  vain,  nay,  'twere  a  very  crime 
To  plunge  into  the  whirling  orb  of  time  ; 
The  winged  hours  slip  silently  away, 
•Old  fashions  pass,  and  new  ones  have  their  day. 

A  wider  scene  the  modern  stage  affords. 
And  all  the  world  now  populates  its  boards  ; 
No  more  rhetorical  conceits  are  prized, 
What  we  demand  is  nature  undisguised  ; 
Banished  is  fashion's  artificial  tone. 
The  hero  acts  and  feels  as  man  alone. 
The  freest,  fullest  notes  from  passion  spring, 
And  real  beauty  to  the  truth  must  cling. 

An  airy  vehicle  is  Thespis'  wain, 

And  like  the  bark  of  Acheron  is  fain 

Ethereal  shadow-forms  alone  to  bear. 

And  if  the  press  of  life  should  venture  near, 

The  flimsy  wherry  threatens  to  capsize — 

Only  for  spirit  passengers  it  plies. 

No  outward  semblance  can  the  truth  attain. 

Where  creature  triumphs,  art  may  strive  in  vain. 

For  in  the  worldly  setting  of  the  stage 
A  world  ideal  must  our  thoughts  engage. 
Nothing  is  genuine,  save  tears  alone  ; 
Emotions  are  from  no  illusion  grown. 
Melpomene  does  not  exaggerate. 
Nor  does  she  fables  for  the  truth  relate. 
The  true  Muse  knows  that  truth  alone  can  charm, 
The  false  assumes  it  only  to  disarm. 
351 


TO  GOETHE. 

Now  threatens  art  to  vanish  from  the  boards, 
And  to  fantastic  visions  room  accords  ; 
These  will  the  stage  and  world  alike  consume, 
To  high  and  low  adjudge  a  common  doom. 
Art  was  more  common  with  the  Frank,  'tis  true,, 
Yet  its  supreme  conception  missed  his  view ; 
His  unrelenting  rule  upon  her  lies 
With  heavy  hand,  so  that  she  cannot  rise. 

A  sanctuary  is  to  him  the  stage  ; 

And  banished  from  its  cheerful  appanage 

Are  nature's  tones  which  harsh  and  careless  halt ; 

He  to  a  song  mere  language  can  exalt ; 

A  realm  it  is  of  harmony  and  grace, 

Each  member  finds  its  well-appointed  place. 

The  whole  becomes  one  great  and  solemn  fane,, 

And  the  gay  dance  brings  motion  in  its  train» 

No,  never  let  the  Frank  our  art  dictate  ! 

He  lacks  the  living  soul  to  elevate  ; 

The  ostentatious  attitude  of  pride 

Disdains  the  mind  which  makes  of  truth  its  guide  ! 

Guide  us  it  shall  up  to  a  higher  sphere. 

And  like  a  vanished  spirit  shall  appear 

To  render  fit  our  much-polluted  scene 

For  great  Melpomene,  the  tragic  Queen. 


352 


TO  MADEMOISELLE  SLEVOIGHT. 

ON  HER  MARRIAGE  TO  DR.  STURM. 

Blessings  attend  thee,  graceful  bride, 
Down  Hymen's  path  about  to  glide  ! 
With  honest  pleasure  we  have  seen 
The  sweetness  of  thy  mind  unfold, 
Thy  charms  assume  a  shapelier  mould, 
Beneath  the  sway  of  love  serene. 
Happy  the  lot  which  thou  hast  found  ; 
And  friendship  yields  without  a  smart 
To  the  soft  God  who  holds  thee  bound, 
Who  asks,  and  has  intact,  thy  heart. 

Thy  wedding  garland  bids  prepare 

For  loving  duties,  sacred  care. 

To  which  thy  youthful  heart  was  blind  ; 

The  trifling  thoughts  of  childhood's  day, 

The  sports  of  youth,  have  passed  away. 

And  half-forgotten  lie  behind. 

Now  Hymen's  fetters  have  control 

Where  fluttering  love  had  spread  its  bowers  ; 

But  for  the  deeply-feeling  soul 

Those  fetters  are  but  chains  of  flowers. 

And  wouldest  thou  the  secret  find 
The  bridal  garland  so  to  wind 
That  it  shall  last  for  ever  green  ? 
It  lies  in  purity  of  heart 
Which  grace  unfading  can  impart 
And  temper  with  a  modest  mien. 
Which  like  the  sun's  reflected  glow, 
To  hearts  the  smiling  lustre  lends, 
And  can  a  modest  air  bestow 
On  dignity  which  ne'er  unbends. 

353  A  A 


GREEK  GENIUS. 

TO  MEYER  IN  ITALY. 

Dumb  to  the  commonplace  host,  who  ply  deaf-hearted 
inquiries, 
Speaks  his  spirit  to  thee,  as  to  an  intimate  friend. 

LINES  WRITTEN  IN  A  FRIEND'S  ALBUM. 
TO  HERR  VON  MECHELN  OF  BASLE. 

Of  inexhaustible  charm  is  the  youthful  beauty  of  nature, 
And  no  less  are  the  charms  of  inexhaustible  art. 

Hail,  esteemed  old  man,    for  thine  heart  doth  equally 
cherish 
Both,  and  so  thy  life  is  a  perennial  youth. 

LINES  WRITTEN  IN  THE  ALBUM  OF  A 
PATRON  OF  ART. 

Once  Wisdom  dwelt  in  the  great  folio'd  tome. 

While  Friendship  through  a  pocket-book  might  work  ; 

But  now  that  knowledge  takes  so  little  room. 

And  floats  in  almanacs,  as  light  as  cork. 

This  mighty  house,  good  man,  thou  dost  extend 

In  hospitality  to  every  friend. 

Dost  thou  not  fear — forgive  me  if  I  ask — 

Their  amiability  to  overtask  ? 


354 


THE  GIFT. 

Ring"  and  Staff,  all  hail  on  a  flask  of  genuine  Rhenish  ! 
Who  thus  waters  his  sheep,  he  is  a  shepherd  indeed. 
Heavenly  draught !  prescribed,  and  sent  to  me  by  the 
Muses, 
And   upon   which   the   Church  gladly  impresses  her 
seal. 


WILLIAM  TELL.i 

When  angry  forces  'gainst  each  other  rise. 
And  by  blind  rage  the  flame  of  war  is  stirred  ; 
When  'mid  the  virulence  of  party  cries 
The  voice  of  justice  is  no  longer  heard ; 
When  every  crime  starts  rampant  to  the  skies, 
And  license  at  the  very  shrine  will  gird, 
Cutting  the  cable  which  the  State  maintains — 
Here  is  no  matter  for  triumphant  strains. 

But  when  a  pastoral  and  simple  race, 
Sufficient  for  itself,  with  no  desires. 
Hurls  off  the  yoke  it  suffered  in  disgrace, 
Which  in  its  wrath  Humanity  admires. 
And  in  its  triumph  wears  a  modest  face — 
This  is  immortal,  and  our  song  inspires. 
Such  a  presentment  to  unfold  be  mine, 
But  what  is  worthy  is  already  thine. 

^  These   stanzas  were   sent   by  the   author   to   the   Electoral 
Chancellor,  together  with  a  copy  of  his  play — *'  William  Tell." 


355 


TO     THE     HEREDITARY    PRINCE    OF 
WEIMAR, 

ON  THE  OCCASION  OF  HIS  JOURNEY  TO 
PARIS. 

{Sung  in  a  circle  of  intimate  Friends^ 

Now  let  us  one  last  bumper  drain 
To  speed  our  traveller's  way, 
Who  quits  anon  this  quiet  plain 
In  which  he  saw  the  day. 

He  leaves  his  own  ancestral  halls, 
From  loving  arms  he  goes 
To  the  proud  capital,  whose  walls 
Whole  nations'  spoils  enclose. 

Discord  makes  pause,  the  thunders  cease. 
The  very  wars  repose, 
The  craters  we  may  sound  in  peace 
From  which  the  lava  rose. 

.  May  luck  thy  devious  steps  attend 
Wherever  they  may  roam  ! 
An  honest  heart  did  Nature  lend, 
Oh,  bring  it  honest  home  ! 


TO  THE  PRINCE  OF  WEIMAR. 

Lands  thou  wilt  cross  which  bore  the  stress 

Of  war's  terrific  strain  ; 

Yet  now  their  smiling  fields  caress 

In  peace  the  golden  grain. 

Old  Father  Rhine  thou  willst  bestride, 
Who  never  will  ignore, 
So  long  his  waters  seaward  glide, 
Thine  ancestor  of  yore. 

Do  homage  to  the  hero's  fame. 
And  pledge  the  noble  Rhine, 
Old  bulwark  of  the  German  name, 
In  his  own  matchless  wine. 

Let  German  spirit  be  thy  guide, 
And  fail  thee  ne'er  a  jot 
When  quivering  to  that  other  side 
Where  German  faith  is  not. 


357 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  THE  NEW 
CENTURY. 

TO  x.x.x. 

Where  shall  we  find  a  refuge,  noble  friend, 
For  peace  and  freedom  on  this  troubled  earth  ? 
The  Century  in  tumult  has  its  end, 
And  murder  dogs  the  new  one  at  its  birth. 

Burst  are  the  links  uniting  land  with  land. 
And  ancient  dignities  and  forms  decline  ; 
The  rush  of  war  the  sea  cannot  withstand, 
Nile  cannot  stem  it,  nor  the  hoary  Rhine. 

Two  mighty  nationalities  contend 
For  the  supreme  possession  of  the  world  ; 
Others  their  hopes  of  freedom  may  suspend 
While  thunderbolts  and  tridents  here  are  hurled. 

For  them  must  every  land  its  gold  afford. 
And  as  did  Brennus  in  his  ruder  day, 
So  does  the  Frank  his  heavy  iron  sword 
Throw  in,  the  even  balance  to  outweigh. 

The  Briton  spreads  his  all-pervading  fleet, 
Its  greedy  tentacles  abroad  are  thrown  ; 
Amphitrite's  domain  he  would  estreat. 
And  claim  the  whole  of  ocean  for  his  own. 

358 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  THE  NEW  CENTURY. 

To  unseen  regions  of  the  Southern  Pole 
His  never-wearied  footsteps  he  directs  ; 
All  shores  and  islands  he  would  fain  control, 
And  Paradise  alone  he  still  respects. 

No  map  or  chart  there  is,  alas  !  I  ween, 
In  which  that  happy  country  we  shall  find 
Where  freedom's  garden  is  for  ever  green, 
And  youth  perennial  adorns  mankind. 

In  boundless  range  the  world  before  thee  lies. 
Even  the  shipping  thou  canst  scarce  compute  : 
Yet  on  its  platform  of  unstinted  size 
For  elbow  room  some  dozen  must  dispute. 

In  the  calm  sanctuary  of  the  heart 
Fly  to  a  refuge  from  this  earthly  throng  ! 
Dreamland  alone  true  freedom  can  impart, 
And  beauty  only  flourishes  in  song. 


359 


IN  OCTOBER  1788. 

For  that  thy  golden  rays  around  my  head  are  pro- 
jected, 
That  I  may  breathe  thy  balm; 
That  through  the  ether  to  thee  my  mortal  glance  is 
directed, 
Bathed  in  a  heavenly  calm; 
That    an    immortal    soul    thy    heavenly    power    has 
granted. 
And  in  my  glowing  heart 
Pleasure  and  pain  alike  in  turn  hast  graciously  planted 

Caution  and  joy  to  impart; 
That  to  express  the  thoughts  of  my  soul  with  fitting 
emotion 
Thou  dost  the  power  afford; 
That  to  thy  doughtier  sons  the  wreath  was  the  meed 
of  devotion, 
Mine  the  inspiriting  chord; 
That  my  impassioned  soul  on  wings  of  ecstasy  soar- 
ing, 
Paints  life  yet  more  bright. 
And  in  the  mirror  of  song  the  verities  ever  exploring, 

Pierces  the  dim  half-light: — 
Goddess  adored,  for  this  till  Destiny  hinder  its  show- 
ing, 
Every  thought  of  my  soul 
Shall    well   forth    toward    thee,    in    childlike    purity 
glowing; 
While  from  the  golden  bowl 
Thine  eternal  praise.  Divine,  shall  echo  for  ever. 

And  this  sentient  heart 
From  its  clasp  of  thy  motherly  breast  no  power  shall 
sever 
Till  us  Death  do  part. 
360 


THE  POET'S  FAREWELL. 


The  Muse  is  silent.     On  her  maiden  cheek 

The  blushing  hues  of  modesty  appear, 

As  she  steps  forth  thy  judgment  to  bespeak, 

With  due  respect  indeed,  but  not  with  fear. 

His  commendation  only  she  would  seek 

Who  all  subordinates  to  truth  austere. 

No  heart  but  that  for  which  pure  beauty  glows 

Is  worthy  beauty's  garland  to  impose. 

So  long  alone  these  songs  of  mine  shall  live 

As  they  can  find  a  sympathetic  mind, 

To  which  some  brighter  fancies  they  can  give, 

And  urge  a  part  more  noble  and  refined. 

To  distant  ages  they  will  not  survive. 

Their  task  is  done,  and  they  will  fall  behind. 

Merely  the  inspirations  of  a  day, 

In  the  light  dance  of  time  they  pass  away. 

The  Spring  returns  ;  the  comfortable  land 
New  youth  attains  beneath  the  vernal  fire  ; 
Entrancing  odours  from  the  shrubs  expand. 
Gay  peals  in  heaven  the  celestial  choir  ; 
The  young  and  old  in  one  united  band 
Through  all  their  senses  happiness  respire. 
But  Spring  departs  !     To  seed  the  flowers  fall. 
And  of  the  past  no  trace  remains  at  all. 

361 


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